The answer to my question: Thoughts from my last ride

Today might have done me a big favour. It hit me: I am not an athlete. Not in body. Not in mind. My body is weak. My mind even weaker. I have lost the will to fight for it - I am getting sick of picking up the pieces (and I am pretty sure everyone around me is too). 

Before I gave up rowing my dad had told me that the sign of the good warrior is to be able to keep going through adversity, but also to know when to give up. Wise words, coming back to haunt me. I think the time has come. After 40 mins of riding in tears, not from pain but from the realisation that I just cannot do it any more, it might be time. 

It feels like a bad break up. It feels like I have been in an emotionally abusive relationship. My affections have not been returned for two years. The sport has not been giving back - the pleasure has gone, lost in the fear of pain, the depressive state I sink to when the pain inevitably comes. Yet once in a while I get a sign, which keeps me going and traps me in the cycle. This is all probably non-sensical to most. 

Maybe I owe it to myself. Maybe I owe it to Duncan too. To strive to be happy away from sport. To define myself in some other way. 

Riddled with 'I think' and 'maybes'. I am not truly ready to let go. But maybe I need to, in order to find something else. Just like a bad relationship. 

Last ride? Maybe. 

Life, triathlon, bugs and other stories.

Last weekend we had our first mini-tri camp (as trigreece.gr) at Schinias. I have to say that I don't normally like working weekends after a long week at school but this was different!

The weekend was aimed at beginner's who had little or no triathlon experience to practise some basic skills, not just the individual sports, but the transitions between them. The secondary aim of the course that was not mentioned in the ad (sneaky!) was to infect people with the bug. Of course we didn't know that at the time.

The weekend went well, partly because we had a great bunch of people who were very enthusiastic and keen to learn (could it just be the type of person attracted to the sport, though, I ask myself) and partly because the subject matter itself is simply awesome! Duncan and I feel very passionate about it, and I think that came across. We both love the sport and take from it different elements for our life. Duncan loves the training. He likes getting out there and doing the long hard miles on the ride. He loves running on the mountain at all times of day and has now even come to enjoy the occasional swim.

I love training too, but the cherry on the cake for me is always the race. Not in the sense of the competition itself, but the race as the goal. I love the discipline and commitment it takes to make it to the startline and, if all goes well, to the finish line too. I love the strength of mind you need to make it through a tough workout, knowing that at the end of it lies a better raceday. 

I loved the weekend. Every minute of it (ok... not so much the mosquito bites...)! I loved the group swim, loved the ride, loved the chat. But most of all I loved transmiting to people my passion. I think it worked too! 

My non-triathlon friends find this corny, but it is true. Tri does change your life. In a good way. It has certainly changed mine. I have taken so much from it and I feel now might be the time to show the way to other people too. Is that almost evangelical? I hope not. Join us on the beach next weekend if you fancy :)

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I have been ill for the last few days. It has been going around school for weeks, I have had 80% of my class off at some point for several days each and I was dreading getting the sore throat and high temperature that seemed to be very contagious. Well, it wasn't to happen, though I fought it as much as I could, repeatedly going to school feeling pretty ill, then coming home and sleeping for 16 hours then back to school the next day. Trips had to be led, Easter eggs had to be packed, chickens had to be finished (!!). I was sent home on Friday morning with a temperature of 39.6. Spent two days in bed in absolute pain (does anyone know if radiclopathy gets worse with a fever? It certainlyfelt that way!) and I am now (after a strong dose of antibiotics) back in the land of the living. Doesn't the air smell sweet when you're well? 

What makes an athlete?

I keep asking myself - what makes an athlete? 

I have always considered myself an athlete - from my early teenage years, when I first tasted the sweet obsession that is sport, to these last couple of years through struggling with rehabilitation. In my mind that is what I am. But for others?

Physically my body still looks like an athlete's body. It's a big joke, because it looks exactly the same when I could swim, bike and run 70.3 miles in a day and then do it again next week! 

My brain is also the same. I still think about training, I plan my training as I did, I look forward to it (possibly more now than before) and I talk as I did when I was training 18 hour weeks, not 8. 

Does the race make the athlete? With the exception of a sprint I managed to sneak in last September, I have largely been in the sidelines for the last 2 years. No racing. Plans to race, but all of them foiled. Pulling out of IMDE officially this week too. 

Maybe it's the psyche that makes the athlete. And my psyche has been feeding off this time off. It has been making me stronger, though (I won't lie) I have also had dark spots when I thought I will never be the same again, I will never get to a startline in my life. I crave the training. I desire the pain of muscles straining to accomplish. I miss the mental game of pushing myself through to the next clear spot in my race. 

Because as in life so in a race you go through dark spots and you go through clear spots. What matters is that in the dark spots you remember that things are bound to change. Sooner or later.

One foot on the ground

Walking is the new running! For  me at least. If you had told me a few years back that I would be ecstatic to have gone for a walk I would have laughed, but that's my current reality. 

I had been thinking about it for a while, as I know that moderate walking (as in walking to work, walking round the shops sort of pace) is good for my back. Both literature and my body agree on that. However every time I had tried to walk with a faster pace I always ended up running... It always seemed the obvious progression... why try and walk faster when you can just run? (The painful truth  for me was so that I could avoid sleepless nights if I could keep one foot on the ground)

Having read the international rac walking rules it all became clearer. The technique is very different to normal walking - race walking is very different. I have been practising proper race walking technique and I have found that it gives me no pain!!! No pain during my walks. No pain after either! Bingo!!

The other thing I discovered is that I could go quite fast. Ok... so not 4 min k's for me... but I could walk at a pace of 8km/hr. Of course I quickly started computing Marathon times (less than 5.15!) and Ironman cut off times. Ok... so the IM might have to wait until I can sit comfortably on a bike for a bit longer than 2 hours... but the Marathon would be a challenge.  

That aside, my radiating pain has been getting less and less. In fact I had none today - something that hasn't happened in a while - almost two years (given my level of activity today and the amount of sitting down - in the car nonetheless - that I had to do). 

I am hoping to be able to make the startline at Schiniathlon, the sprint race on 9th May! 

On Happiness

I was planning a post on happiness but after this last week my thoughts on the subject keep evading me. 

A young boy died this week, in the most tragic circumstances one can imagine. It was the biggest reminder that life can be so grossly unfair. 

The one thing I want to take away and have been thinking about it almost constantly is how grateful we should all be. I know... it sounds like preaching. But just for a second let's sit down and think of all the things we are grateful for - let's just see just how lucky we are. For the people around us. For our friends and family. For the fact that we are up in the morning to see another day. It's not sentimental, it's the truth. 

My list is getting longer and longer this week. And I am grateful for the last few days of no pain. I guess they are a luxury for many. 

Off to the pool now.  

Get off that bike!

Last Sunday was the first day of Spring. It was also my first long ride on the road bike for... quite a while. Long enough for me not to remember when I was last well enough to attempt anything more than an hour on the bike. In fact I made it pretty clear that I wanted to go for 90 mins, but group dynamics and the first glorious day of spring made resistance futile: I was in for the whole ride. 

The first half went smoothly, I felt strong, climbed well, felt stable in my hips and rode smoothly and off the front. However 1.15 into it the pain started.... and it was there to stay. My back was cut in half, my leg was no longer my own and it felt heavy on  the pedal. I had no choice but to continue, but I fell behind and slowly dragged my weary behind back to the car. 

The waffles that followed helped a bit. They sweetened the pain and dissappointment of knowing that I am not ready, as well as the physical pain. I took some pain killers and resigned to a bit of discomfort for the next couple of days. It was not as bad as I feared and by Monday I was quite strong and able to train again - some walking, some cross trainer and a lot of swimming. 

Swimming seems to help, so does aqua jogging - went back to it this week and it definitely took stiffness away after a long day. The cross trainer helps too - no impact, but some movement that brings much needed nutrients to my poor disc. 

My goal has revealed itself and it is a sprint distance race in early May. I need to remind myself that all I need to do is train enough to swim 750 meters (a lot less than my current swim milage), cycle 20 kms (less than 45 mins on the bike) and run/walk 5kms. The last is the least predictable and it will depend on the day whether I walk or run, or do a combination of the two.

 

But I need the goal to keep me training and for the first time I need the goal to keep my training times DOWN! Never thought I'd ever do this in my life... but need to remember, this time round: less is more! 

Springtime or something like it...

During each of my winters in England I would convince myself that once February was over it was officially  springtime. With that logic the days should be longer, the weather should  be warmer and my training should become more pleasant and hopefully more focused too. Of course I was merely lying to myself, tricking my brain into thinking that, hey, it's not that bad, spring is just round the corner.

Well, now in Greece, I have more reason to hope. First day of spring tomorrow and already I can smell spring. The blossom is out, wildflowers have started to put colour on the mountain side and the days are already longer - it is no longer dark when I get up in the morning and I can still ride well past 6 o'clock in the evening. 

Spring brings hope and this time more than before. Two years ago next week was the day I first got injured - the first sleepless night after a long run. Last year this week I was lost - no hope of getting better as my condition was worsening, left undiagnosed. 

But this year is different. I have been in rehab for 4 full months now and I am without a doubt getting stronger - I am painfree for some of the time and I am having manageable pain the rest of the time. I have been able to train (very sensibly) every single time that I have planned- have not had to skip a session for longer than 6 weeks because of pain (though I have had to cut sessions shorter, just to be on the safe side). And I am getting close to starting a more structured training plan, knowing that I will not be missing session after session with crippling pain. Maybe this springtime will bring more than hope with it. It might bring change.