Life has fallen into a very mundane routine since training has ended.  I have started my marathon training.  I knew it wasn't going to be easy but to be honest, it's turning out to be harder than I expected.  Training for a 70.3 certainly took up a lot more time and effort.  And towards the end included close to 30 miles of running in addition to biking and swimming.

So what gives that this plan seems so hard right now?  I ran fourteen miles today, pushing this week's mileage to 29, and I was definitely riding the struggle bus.  These long runs the past few weeks have been among my slowest-paced runs in a long time.  My mid-week shorter runs are the fastest pace I've been able to keep up in ages, however.  Either way I'm not getting discouraged about it, especially considering my long runs are on the hilliest route I know.  I'm trusting that I am building a lot of strength on those runs.

I'm definitely excited to continue training and pushing myself each week.  Although it's hard, my life does not feel consumed at all by this training.  It is still enjoyable, despite how hard it is.  I am unsure my body fully recovered from the 70.3 before jumping into training, which sort of has been a domino effect of feeling constantly fatigued.  Who knows.

I'm disappointed that I haven't been able to jump back into my old gym routine, but I'm not worried about it.  The prospect of losing muscle tone isn't something I want to be a concern or obsession of mine.  I know that I will eventually be able to fit that back into my life again, but adding that to my training right now will make me feel consumed.  So for now, I am happy with where I am at.

Ironman 70.3 Thoughts, Part 2

When I signed up for the 70.3 in October, at the time it seemed so far away.  A little over eight months was plenty of time to prepare.  I kept myself in pretty good shape over the winter-- running several days a week, going to spinning classes, and every Saturday morning doing a swim/spin/run session.  I stayed dedicated to this in order to be "ready" when the training began.

Around the beginning of February, I began to write out my training plan according to a 16-week one I downloaded from online.  Six days a week of training.  Two moderate run/swim days, 2 shorter bike days, and one long bike/run day followed by one long run day.  One rest day.  Yikes.  As I wrote it out on a calendar along with my work days, it began to really hit me just how challenging this was going to be.  I knew I could do it, but I don't think I had really thought about what it would be like (plus when I signed up in October, my work schedule at the time was much more triathlon training-friendly.

Training started out pretty light so although I was tired and occasionally lost a little extra sleep here and there, it was ok.  The long bike rides at that time were long for me, but they weren't difficult to fit in.  Long runs weren't all that long in the beginning.

Gradually over time as with any training plan, the intensity and duration began to increase.  Sleep between shifts was sporadic, short, and very poor quality.  I couldn't figure out how I was supposed to be eating, or fueling around and during workouts.  I wasn't halfway through the plan before I began to feel extremely burned out.  I would wake up after only four hours of sleep, if that, to go on long bike rides that I struggled through.

During that time, I started to realize first of all that working night shift was no longer working for me.  I also began to recognize that my body was not going to continue to do well if it couldn't sleep well.  Things had to change.

Once I got my sleeping habits under better control and then switched to days, things did improve somewhat.  But I was still finding myself feeling tired of this training, tired of having very little social life, and tired of being tired all the time.  I think one of the things I am proudest of out of all of this isn't necessarily related to race day.  But to the mere fact that I didn't give up when things got hard.  I came close to it.  There were days I wanted to quit entirely, days I cried because I just felt like I couldn't keep going.

For me to cross that finish line knowing I had done my absolute best to train and prepare for this race was the proudest moment of them all.  I have seldom ever found myself overcome by emotion, but after finishing I was completely overwhelmed.

I don't know if I will do this again next year, but I know I will do this again.  I gave up being able to travel, go on social outings with friends, getting good sleep (this will be better in the future I can assure you), among many other things.  I'm simply not sure I will be ready to give all of that up again next year.  I've definitely learned ways to not it for the next time which may help.

As for right now, I am training for the Leavenworth Marathon on October 1st  My first marathon, and I am so excited!  Four to five days a week of training with two whole rest days is so much nicer.  Don't get me wrong: the long runs are long and this is definitely not going to be easy.  I am not and never will be a fast or really good runner.  But I love working toward goals, and this one I am excited about!

I have struggled so much with the events of this past week in Baton Rouge, Falcon Heights, and Dallas.

I have so many emotions and thoughts swirling around in my head that I don't know how to get out.  Realities I am grasping as a white person in America.  For a long time I have believed I was sympathetic to the cause of Black Lives Matter, but the simple fact was it just didn't affect me all that much.

But this week, seeing those live videos of black men murdered has been extremely disturbing... and an extreme wake-up call.  It's not that I didn't believe that black people, specifically black men, face that kind of danger when dealing with police.  But I just didn't give it much thought because at the end of the day, I am safer for being a white person.  I have never had to be afraid for the simple fact that I am white.

It used to frustrate me when men couldn't be sympathetic to the cause of feminism.  I would think, "If women are telling you the realities of what they face every day as women, believe them.  Why can't you just believe us and listen?"  It's not a conspiracy of man-hatred that causes this.

And suddenly I am realizing the same thing about Black Lives Matter.  It's not that I didn't believe it.  But I was blind to it.

As hard as it is to hear about these things, to believe that my fellow man can treat another human being this way... I want to hear about it.  I want to listen.  Because as a white woman, I will never understand or be able to help if I don't listen.  It is not my place to point fingers and call this race-baiting as so many will do.  It is not my place to stand here and offer advice, to shove my opinions in anyone's faces on either side.  It is my place to listen, and to learn how I can help.  For my black brothers and sisters, I want you to know I stand with you.

Ironman 70.3 Thoughts, Part 1

If you've read my blog for any length of time, you probably know some of my journey over the past few years.  It was just over three years ago I made a huge lifestyle change.  I started small.  Eating healthier portions, cutting back on processed foods, and walking a couple of miles a day.  At the time, I really had no intentions of doing anything except for losing weight.

Fast forward to this week, and I completed a Half Ironman.  There's SO much that has happened in three years to get me here.  None of it has been overnight.  And the journey has most definitely been full of ups and downs, discouragement, and difficulties.  I will be the first to say that none of this comes easy for me.  I do not have natural talent and ability when it comes to running, swimming, or biking.  I can't tell you how many people have said to me, "I could never do what you did."  And if you don't want to do it, then I don't encourage you to.  But I want to say to all those people: I am a prime example of someone that could never have done this.

I hated exercise.  In fact, I hated anything health or fitness related.  It was all nothing but a reminder of just how out of shape, slow, and unhealthy I was.  I preferred to embrace my size and not do anything about it, because that was the easy thing to do.  I hated pushing myself out of my comfort zone.  Even when I started out, I felt embarrassed and ashamed on my walks because being a 26-year-old walker screamed to everyone, "Look at me!  I'm out of shape!  I'm fat!  I can't run!"

But I started somewhere, and with no intention of ever doing anything more.  And I was ok with that.  It was only when I moved away from Florida that I became a runner.  I think part of it was that walking was getting boring.  Another part was I was dating a guy who valued fitness over everything, and I felt like I needed to do more than I was already doing.  (And let me just say, that is the dumbest reason EVER to start doing anything!)  I downloaded Couch to 5K on my phone and started there.

Over the next year, I dealt with nasty shin splints, severely disordered eating, a stress fracture, weight gain and total loss of fitness, until I finally reached a place after my injury where running was possible again.  Bloomsday was a huge deal.  Next came my sprint triathlon, another huge accomplishment for me.  I set my sights on a half marathon in October, and was able to finish with a much faster time than I thought was possible for me.

My friend Haley had signed up for the 70.3 a few months before.  Being a much more hard-core athlete than me, I figured that was something for the big leagues and I would never be able to do it.  But something in the back of my mind kept nagging me, telling me this was something I had to do.  I was scared to death.  And because it scared me, I knew I had to do it.  Of course signing up in October, it seemed like a great idea!  It was still so far away, and there was plenty of time to get in tip top shape.  I would often find myself anxious for the "real" training to begin, although I was pretty hardcore in keeping up with informal training all winter long.  March 6, day 1 of training, loomed in the distance and I was excited.

I didn't anticipate just how difficult the journey was really going to be.