Focus

So nothing really earth-shattering in my world lately.  Just lots of little every day excitement.  I (finally) made the decision not to pursue ultrarunning at this point.  At least not anything over 50 miles.  For the last year, I've had my sights set on doing a 100-miler in 2013.  And, me being me, I can't just do any 100-miler... it was going to be one of the notoriously difficult ones, 'cause that's how I roll.  But several things got into my head and made me start to think...

...First off, I've been reading this (let's call it self-help) book.  In Pursuit of Excellence, by Terry Orlick.  In his book, the author challenges the reader to focus.  Focus on whatever it is that you're passionate about, or a goal, whether it be work or sport related.  Focus.  I really struggle in this department because I'm much more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants type of gal.  You're running a marathon?  Sure!  I'll run with you!  Trail running?  Absolutely!  I'm there!  Ironman?  You bet!  Count me in!  5k Swim?  Why not?! 

But as I've gotten (cough) *older* I've been less than happy splitting my time between all of my pursuits.  I know I'm getting closer to the age at which I will stop getting faster.  And before I hit that point, I want to feel like I've really made an effort to run my fastest marathon.  I don't want to hit 40 and look back and wish that I had gone for it when I had the chance. 

Similarly, I've spent the past 5 years, and more specifically 2 years, building a base in Ironman.  I never owned a bike before 7 years ago, unless you count the wannabe mountain bike that I used to commute to work and school.  I didn't know how to cycle.  It has taken me a long time to build that endurance base and I'm not willing to give it all up just yet.  

... Secondly, when I do make the transition to ultrarunning I want to have adequate time to prepare for my first 100 miler.  When we came off the South Kaibab Trail a couple of weeks ago after 48 miles on foot, I looked at my dad and said, "I can't imagine going any farther.  How in the hell am I supposed to run 100 miles?"  I was completely spent.  I couldn't even walk the mile to the car without moaning and groaning like a 90 year old.  That 48 miles was harder than any other endurance event I've participated in.  Rushing into a 100 miler in 2013 when I can't even start training until January is not how I want to do things. 

In his book, Relentless Forward Progress, Bryon Powell encourages new ultrarunners to channel their initial enthusiasm into building a strong foundation rather than rush into a 100 miler after the first season.  His idea of leaving the 100 miler as a challenge to strive for, to experience, and to savor makes complete sense to me.  Can I complete a 100 miler?  Yes.  But when I do, I want to have enough training and experience behind me to know that I can complete the 100 miler of my choice without worrying about making a time cutoff.  I want, no I NEED, more than 6 months to prepare for that.  And as Bryon says, I want to enjoy to time building up to that goal. 

... And lastly, with my epic fail at St. George, I am feeling the need to exact a little bit of revenge on the iron-distance triathlon.  No, this is not punishment.  I'm motivated.  I'm using the things that I'm learning in Mr. Orlick's book to conquer my mental demons and to set goals for how I want to approach the Ironman.  I'm learning a lot about myself.  And I'm learning about how I want to compete.  Who I want to be as an athlete.  It's all very exciting. 

Looking at the next few years, I see myself finishing Ironman #8, 9, 10, 11 and 12 to complete the required number of events for the Legacy Program which guarantees entry into Kona, the World Championships.  I see myself getting stronger, and faster, and maybe *maybe* one day standing on the podium in my age group at an Ironman event. 

When we first started racing triathlon, and Kona is all the rage, the topic of the lottery came up.  I swore I'd never enter the lottery for Kona.  And I still feel this way.  It's like the Boston Marathon.  Why in the hell would you go to Boston without qualifying?  I realize that people do, and a lot of money is raised for charity through that program.  But for me, I wanted to feel like I belonged in Boston.  That I earned my place on the starting line.  I deserve to be there.  It's an ego thing, I guess.  I would never just sign my name on a slip and put it in a box to be drawn from for Kona.  But when the Legacy Program was announced last year, I thought, that's something I can get behind.  If I can successfully complete 12 Ironman events, I can successfully complete Kona. 

Don't get me wrong, I'll be scared shitless when I'm actually floating in the water waiting for the cannon to start the race.  But one day, I will race in Kona.  And I'm very excited by that prospect.  It's what allows me to get out of bed at 4:20 AM to start my training day.  It's easy to stay motivated for Ironman because every day I see progress.  I feel stronger.  I recover faster.  I train smarter. 

So that's where I'm at.  Physically.  Mentally.  Emotionally.  I'm living in the moment, which I think is where life is meant to be lived. 

Happy Training.