Last Sunday, September 18th, I did something that, until very recently, I never would have thought possible. I completed my first ever sprint triathlon, and actually, my first ever, (in my 47 years of life!) real competitive sporting event. Having grown up in a family that subscribed to the notion that sports were for boys only, I never played competitive sports as a child or teenager. In collage, I wasn't prepared for any sport because of my lack of high school sport history, so I found aerobics, and thus began my journey in the world of fitness, which has brought me to where I am now, a 47 year old crossfitting mom of over 3+ years.
Inspired by the first WOD of the 2011 Crossfit games.....210 meter ocean swim, 1 mile soft sand run, 50 pull ups, 75 push ups, 100 air squats, and then another 1 mile soft sand run, I decided to sign up for a triathlon to see how I would fare. Big time endurance not being my game, I looked for and found one that appealed to my abilities and sensibilities, a 400 meter open water swim, 12.5 mile bike ride, and 2 mile run. Awesome, I thought, those numbers are manageable, I'm a badass crossfitter, I got this, I was thinking about the protein shake I would have after the run as I did the online registration.
I did a bit of swimming in the pool to train, usually a half mile, sometimes jut the quarter mile I would be required to do on game day, and it all seemed good. I was coming in anywhere between 8-8.5 minutes, and I wasn't wrecked.
Found out 2weeks before that Downingtown Pa (where this tri was held) is a VERY hilly area, and that the bike ride would be challenging. No prob, took the old Cannondale out for a few spins, even did the Amish country bike tour the week before, 50 mile loop, flat and pretty country roads in the Dover area, and ran a mile right after. My legs felt like tree trunks with no joints, it was the most difficult mile I have EVER run. I'm not even to discuss the amount of pain that pulsated through my halix rigadussed, planter faciitist feet that day during the run that day, just think hot needles. This is when it started to dawn on me that this triathlon stuff was nothing to scoff at.
The crossfit journal posted an article a few days before the tri entitled Staying in the Fight by former Navy Seal Mark Devine. I read then article, and it struck a chord in me. Up until this point, the voice inside my head during wod's was the voice of a bully, berating, denigrating, insulting and mean. Negativity oozed from my mind during wods, in a misguided attempted to push myself to the next level. Instead, I often found myself dejected, disappointed with my strength and performance, and unable to push passed the fatigue, which would then cause me to berate me more!! Sounds like I should have called social services on myself.
This article discusses the power of positive self talk, and how to do it. The first time I read it, some of the suggestions seemed almost silly, and I was surprised to read that the Seals, AKA the biggest bunch of badasses in the military, would engage in such goofy tactics......and then I read it again. And I started to think about it.
The day before the tri, first timers were invited to learn how the transition area worked, drive the bike coarse, and jump in the lake and take a swim. When I saw the distance we were expected to swim, I though there is NO WAY that is 400 meters, looks like 4000!!! The lake looked huge, and murky, no clear water and black stripe to follow, and you had to swim to the start, and tread water till they said go, then you had to follow buoys which were about 100 meters apart. I went in the water and felt like a fish out of it. WTF, I thought, get your shit together, you've been doing this forever.... as everyone swam past me. Not being able to see was so creepy, and actually claustrophobic for me. We were allowed to swim to the first buoy and back, or back and forth a few times, just to experience the water. I got to the buoy, looked back at how far away I was from land, and panicked. My pride got the better of me, I forced myself to get my breathing under control, and I flipped on my back and headed back towards shore. Halfway back I flipped around and front crawled the rest of the way. I walked on shore shaken.
Then we drove the bike coarse, and whatever badassness I might have had left after the water experience I practically pissed away, this wasn't just hard, it was SCARY, like a roller coaster ride, except I wouldn't be strapped in. The entire 12.5 miles were hills, huge hills, the kind that aren't fun going up, and even less fun going down. Holy Crap, what have I gotten myself into.
Came home that night, and went back to the article in the journal. Now, I knew that I was physically capable of this WOD ahead of me, knew my stroke was strong enough for the water and distance that scared me, knew that my quads were ready for those hills that took my breath away, and 2 miles, even I can manage 2 miles. But it was clear as pool water to me that my head needed a WOD, cause I came home Saturday scared shitless.
Read Mark Devine again. Read Kevin Daigles Choose the Wrench. Went to CFNE, Derick had posted an open letter to competitors of an upcoming throw down at CFNE about positive self talk, postiive visualization of the wods you're preparing to do, and he too, recommended the Mark Devine article, and a video of Gregg Admunson speaking on the subject which I watched. The message was all the same, you can do anything you believe you can do, and there is great benefit in telling yourself....OVER and OVER that you can do it. I went to bed, armed with positive mantras, ready to crush it.... and dreamt of drowning. To be continued.....
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