barfday fishes

Thank you for all your birthday wishes, my creepy (and not so creepy) internet friends! I can't believe you posted my birthday for everyone to come and visit me! So thoughtful! And thanks for telling everyone that I'm really 29 - really, that was a nice touch!

It's about 5 days out from Vineman 140.6 and I really thought I'd be panicking now. Is it too early to be panicked? Or have I just been racing that long that I can be calm about this? This is a big deal - I was planning to be panicked! I suppose I am nervous but it's not the kind of panic I'm accustomed to. Like the time before my first half-iron, when I couldn't eat, or sleep.

...and like the time before my first sprint, where I couldn't eat or sleep.

I suppose that's one benefit to Ironman training: eating and sleeping are not a problem. Lately I find myself wandering through the kitchen grazing on pretty much any bag that's open - I do this about every hour or two.

For my birthday I took a nap. Yes, that was my birthday present. A nap.

It was a good one.

This is definitely different from that sick, pit of the stomach, certain death panic I have previously experienced.

I know, there's still 4 more panic days until Christmas, but right now I'm enjoying the peace at the eye of the storm. Right now it feels like I have put the key into the ignition, I've started the engine, and now I'm in the back seat. I set the wheels in motion, it's now out of my hands. And strangely, it's kind of a comforting feeling.

I vascillate between the weird feeling of lack of control, to feeling totally burned out and fed up, to feeling just plain tired.

Last Friday I was scheduled to run - it was horribly hot, I felt about as lively as a piece of gum on the underside of a smelly shoe. I ran into a teammate at the gym who asked how I felt. I couldn't lie. I said, I feel like shit. He said "that's AWESOME!" Why? Because the shittier you feel, the better you'll do - and he made a convincing case for me.

Total crap, or total burnout. Or something like a deer in the headlights. That's my emotional spectrum for the past week.

Meanwhile, I'm packing. Slowly. I'm worried that I'll forget something critical.

I'm still having to tell people at work where I'll be at the end of this week. How did they not know? My bike was shipped last week - did they not notice when Geekgirl brought the giant bike box? It was big enough to ship a corpse. Still have to get a car reserved.

I'm mostly worried about the swim, more than anything. It's just...my head is my biggest enemy in the swim. I worry I'll get tired. I worry I'll panic. I'm worried I won't enjoy it. I'm worried I'll get dizzy. I worry I'll get worried. I'm worried it will suck.

Wetsuits, sleeveless and sleeved - which one will I wear? swim goggles, de-fog. Ironman watch - pink, of course. How ironic. Take one gel before the swim. Deep breath. Slow down.

Now, I know I can swim 2.4 miles - because I have swum 2.5 miles all in one go. Also, everything I have been told and heard about it says that of all the ironman swims in the world, this is the least threatening one. I need to conjure up some happy thoughts to get me through the swim - things to think about besides total and utter despair. I know I can do it. I want to enjoy it.

Come out of the water, dry off - clean off feet. Put on shoes, bike shorts, chamois butter. Sunscreen. Is there a changing tent? Do I care? Aero helmet, sunglasses. Bike shoes. Good bike socks with flames. Zebra arm coolers.

Everyone I know who has done it says that it's a beautiful bike ride. I did meet a guy a couple months ago on a ride - it was one of those happenstance things, you know, where your riding group bumps into another riding group at one of the feed stops (read: gas station). Our group talked to their group, what are you guys training for, and someone mentioned that I am training for Vineman (I rarely bring this up in mixed company). And he says "Oh, that's a hilly ride. It's tough." As if he'd done it already.

Good bike jersey loaded with gels. Uncrustables and heed and perpetuem already on the bike. Aerobottle full of water. Pack the e-Caps on the bike. Still haven't figured out a dispensing mechanism, but a ziploc bag will do in a pinch. Bento box. Advil, just in case.

I had a momentary pang of fear when he said that, in a reverent sort of way. Then I figured it out: We passed that guy and his group easily about a mile ago. I don't know how good or bad a rider he is, but he is not me. And then I wasn't worried anymore.

Pace myself. Enjoy the day. gel every 1/2 hr, e-cap every hour. Uncrustables when required. Drink often. Eat often.

Still, I know things happen. How do I know? Because I've done it - mechanicals, flats, bonking, etc. It happens. I do worry it'll happen again, and that would suck. I know what to do.

New seat bag. Extra tubes, tire levers, flat kit, CO2.

All these things happen. It'll be a long ride. I know I can do it. I want to enjoy it.

Running shoes, race belt. Change shorts. Outlaw jersey. Hat, running socks. Sunscreen. Body glide. E-caps and advil for the run.

The run will be a thing all its own. I worry about the run - I worry mostly that it will hurt. I have no illusions about the hurt. I've never run this distance before. Never.

Walk every aid station, e-caps on the 1/2 hr. Gels every 3 miles, or every 30 minutes. Coke, gatorade, water in between, as needed. Sips. Not gulps.

I'm worried that I'll be too slow. I'm worried that I'll miss the run cutoff. I'm worried that my stomach will fail. I worry that I'll bonk. I worry that my legs will fail me, that I'll injure myself.

If it's hot, I can put ice in my bra. Or in my arm coolers. I can come back to T2 for a headlamp, gel flasks, other supplies. ITB strap if I need it.

I know that I can finish a 70.3 and still feel pretty OK. I know that if I had pace myself a touch slower on the run, I might feel even better.

I can walk if I need to. I can run when I feel good.

It'll be what it'll be. It'll be a long run. I think I can do it. I want to enjoy it.

I'm also trying to visualize it - the finishing part. There's a lot of miles between here and there, I'll have to make my way through every one of them personally. I realized last week that I don't know if there's a finisher's medal - it's a big part of my fantasy that I get a medal.

I really hope there's a finisher's medal. I want to wear it for a month. And possibly pizza. And definitely a cold place to put my legs. I bet that would be nice.

Mostly, I just want to do it. I've been getting ready for 3 years. I know I can do it, I want to enjoy it.

I suppose, when I look at it, I'm less panicked and more just plain worried. I can't do anything about my worries all the way out here - I have no choice but to walk through it on race day and see what happens. Because I have all these creepy internet friends - who've all done this before - I also know that everything that I feel right now is totally normal.

Maybe that's why I'm not panicking.

Thanks for sharing, friends.