Making Lemonade

If you'd asked me a year ago where I thought I'd be right now, it would not be where I am.  In the last year I've learned some things about myself, about life, and about what's important to me.  One year ago, I was 4 weeks from the best race of my life.  Only I didn't know it, and I didn't truly appreciate how great that day was.  Prior to lining up that race morning I had mapped out 2013 to include my final 4 races to qualify me for the Ironman Legacy.  Now that I'm 4 weeks away from the 4th and final race of the year ... I don't think I want the Legacy anymore. 

This year has been a roller coaster of trials, tribulations, travels, and testing.  I almost wish for a simpler version, an easier way.  But you don't learn from easy.  You learn by being burned in the fire.  After a delayed start to my training season, things were beginning to improve.  We went to Boston and Texas, both of which were good training days, nothing more. 

Life ain't always what you think it ought to be.

A month later, I found myself in Coeur D'Alene having a phenomenal day and boosting my confidence.  Unfortunately, the training in between was marked by weeks of taper, recovery, and very slow progress in training.  Almost imperceptible at times.  As the season went on my frustration mounted and I felt cheated.  I should have enjoyed that race last November at IMAZ, I thought, because it's going to be my one hit wonder.  I am officially a one trick pony, I concluded.

I survived, and even had a little fun, in Tahoe.  I had already begun to question my motives and desires with the Legacy.  I felt as though my training and fitness level were equal to where I was in February of 2012.  About 9 months before the race of my life.  What if, instead of applying for Legacy, I re-aimed my bow and shot for Texas 2014 instead?  Or Wisconsin?

Heading home from Ironman Tahoe, we dropped our bikes and gear bags off with TriBike Transport as we have done for every out of town race since 2007.  Little did I know it would be the last time I saw my bike (and everything else I own).  The truck containing my bike and gear bag was stolen in LA during an overnight stay.  It all seems very suspicious to me.  I have so little faith in humanity to begin with, but really... LA?  If I was going to choose a place in which to spend the night with $200,000 worth of gear in the back of my truck I certainly wouldn't pick LA.  The trucks are unmarked, so I can't help but think that someone at the hotel (working the overnight shift likely for less than what they believe they're worth) tipped off the thief and now my precious E'ly is lost forever.  I cringe when I imagine the kind of abuse that she's sustained out of my care. 

I never received a call from TriBike Transport.  No one called me to apologize.  No one emailed me.  No one offered to send me the $2000 worth of insurance money that I had purchased with the trip.  No one offered to refund my money since they didn't follow through on the whole "transport" bit.  Not a single contact.  They called my husband.  Told him he should probably pull over since he was driving.  To this day, I've never received a single phone call or email.  In my opinion this is poor customer service on their part.  I know they're making their job easier by only dealing with one of us, but I realize now how very little I matter to them.  If I treated my clients in the same manner I'd be out of a job.   

When life hands you a lemon, you tell that lemon to go fuck itself.

 

Good news for TriBike is now they'll be making a heck of a lot more money because every single person that uses their business will now fully ensure their property.  We always bought an extra $1000 in insurance thinking that if something were "damaged" we could have it fixed/ replaced for 2 grand.  We never imagined in our wildest dreams that we'd lose everything we own related to our triathlon racing.  Wetsuits, shoes (bike and run), custom orthotics, custom race kits.  Everything I bought at the expo.  Goggles, helmets, hydration system, race wheels.  Plus all the little things like ear plugs, water bottles, nutrition products, sunscreen, chamois cream.  It all adds up.  And it doesn't even include the time and hundreds of dollars I spent dialing in my fit. 

I spiraled into depression.  In the weeks that followed Tahoe, I rode my old road bike which had been stripped down and loaned out multiple times.  It no longer fit me and with each ride, my discomfort and sadness increased.  My husband was negotiating with insurance companies to try to get our gear replaced.  I am so thankful that he took the initiative because I was pretty much useless.  I wanted my old bike back (I still do).  I didn't want a newer, better, different bike.  My bike was part of my identity.  I was recognized because of my bike. 

Never love something that can't love you back.

When my new bike arrived (now named Sly), Two Wheel Jones spent hours of overtime getting her built up in time for my bike fit with fit-guru, Cyclologic.  Though I'm sure the mechanic enjoyed the case of beer and the Starbucks I brought him, he'll never understand how much I appreciate the extra effort he put forth working on Sly.  I picked her up and drove straight to my bike fit where I touched her intimately for the first time. 

She is beautiful.  And sleek and fast.  My heart is guarded.  I feel like I've just been through this terrible break up and I won't allow myself to fully embrace her yet.  As one friend reminded me, never love something that can't love you back.  I had allowed myself to love E'ly, and when she was stolen from me I felt as though I had lost a friend.  It's my own fault, really.  She was an inanimate object.  She couldn't love me back.  It was the joy and freedom that she gave me out on the road that I really treasured and will miss the most.   

With my new bike in hand, I've been training a little more comfortably in the last couple of weeks.  I've also noticed that I feel better, stronger, faster than I was a few weeks ago.  This might be a coincidence, I realize, since we are also training on flatter ground now that my hilly races are over.  But 2 months ago I couldn't keep up with my husband for a mile on the beeline and now we're alternating lead in a paceline to keep the pace and intensity up.

I almost want to get my hopes up.  I almost want to believe. 

After much soul-searching I have made several decisions.  Number one, I will give my all in November.  I may not PR and I might not come anywhere close to my race last year.  But it will be my best effort where I am now, and will likely be my second fastest race ever.  That said, you never know where the stars will align on race day and I don't easily give up. 

Secondly, I am not going to apply for Legacy.  This year.  With how close I came to qualifying for Kona last year, I feel that by applying for Legacy I would be cheating myself out of the opportunity to qualify for real.  To have that experience of wondering and waiting for results.  To stand up and claim my ticket to the Big Island.  To cry, and laugh, and cheer, and celebrate all the blood, sweat, and tears that it takes to get there.

Thirdly, I have hired a coach starting January 1.  One thing I learned this year is that I can't do it all, and I can't do it all alone.  I have been pushed to my limit, and pulled in too many different directions with work and life.  I have skipped more workouts this year due to lack of sleep than in the last 8 years combined.  And my workouts have become stale.  When I actually do have time for something, I end up doing the same loop on my bike or steady state run.  There's no thought involved.  No pushing myself.  With a coach, I hope to take the guess work out of my training and be more focused.  I want to be held accountable so that I do get enough sleep, and fuel myself appropriately for training.  I want to be able to maximize my training time to get the most out of myself, and be able to race to my full potential.  I want to give myself the opportunity to achieve my goals at either Texas or Wisconsin.  And if I still don't get there, that's OK.  I will accept that I've done everything I could- and throw my name in the lottery for the following year.

If you want something you've never had, then you've got to do something you've never done.

I am really excited about the opportunity to be part of Team HPB.  I think she will be a good match for me.  She understands my background and my abilities.  She will know how to push me and get the best out of me.  I've never had a coach before, and I always said that as long as I'm seeing improvement I'll continue to do what I'm doing.  This year is the first time I haven't seen improvement, and I'm ready to take that step.  I look forward to the challenges and opportunities of 2014.

For the remaining 4 weeks, I am going to immerse myself in positive self-talk, and motivational CDs, books and music.  I will regain my mental edge which has been my best asset in training and racing.  I will continue to hone my efforts on the bike and I will be ready for race day when it arrives.  Mentally, physically, emotionally. 

Because as my favorite song writer says...

If you only had one shot, one opportunity, to seize everything you ever wanted, in one moment.... would you capture it?  Or just let it slip?