A year ago I finished my first triathlon…and I was only 8 months post partum (as in my baby was only 8 months old) many people thought I was crazy for even attempting it, as I was only about 4-5 months post partum when I started training. Truth be told I thought I was a little crazy too, but as you can read hereI was at my wits end… signing up for a race seemed like the best way to keep me accountable… and you know what it did.
It was hard I won’t even lie, but I made up a training plan (ok I downloaded a sprint triathlon beginner training program for free online from Hal Higdon highly recommend him). So I had a plan. It started off easy, run 20 minutes one day, bike 30 minutes another day etc, but then as the plan wore on it got harder and incorporated bricks… as in more then one workout back to back, as in 15 minutes of swimming followed by 30 minutes of running or 45 minutes of biking followed by 20 minutes of running. The theory was your body gets used to the transition between each event and really just doing each event in concession period! I can’t really say I felt like giving up at all during the training, however I can say I felt like strangling my husband….
I could go on FOREVER about all the challenges I faced while training but I know they are the same as every other woman around. i.e. husband puts his exercise before yours, husband travels is never home (single mom), kids are sick need tlc, just plain sick and tired and want to sleep, no energy after 8 hours at a mind numbing job, just to come home to a messy house and a family to feed, a infant who refused to sleep through the night no matter how many tricks or old wives tales you tried, ok get the point? Like I said it wasn’t easy…
The thing I had going for me was I was determined…. Sometimes I didn’t get out to ride my bike until 9pm, but I did anyways.. And I used the anger and frustration over whatever it was that prevented me from getting out there 2 hours earlier as originally planned. All the weight I carried on my shoulders lifted in the water and dissipated with each stroke, and each time my foot landed another piece of frustration caused by idiotic government semantics was pounded into the pavement. I also had to get a little creative to avoid any logistical nightmares, for example, if my brick consisted of a bike ride and run it was too easy, I ride my bike in my neighborhood, drop it in my driveway then continue running.. if my brick consisted of swimming and running, I would bring my gear to work then slip off to the gym right next to my building and get my laps in then throw some clothes on and go to the track right outside the door to the gym and get some more laps in… I even biked to the gym swam laps then biked home.. whatever it took I got (most) of my workouts in as planned. To deal with the mommy guilt I put Vicki in the bike trailer, tugged her to the park and let her play, if Angelo took a random nap early in the evening I would ask my brother in law to watch him for a bit while I got in my workout. The funny thing was I didn’t feel as much guilt the more I got into my workouts.. mainly because I felt so much better in general. I had energy again, I wasn’t moving in slow motion just trying to get by each day until I could crawl into my bed.. I was… living. The time I spent with my kids had more quality to it, even if some of my workouts took time away. I was happier.. they must have been happier (you know what they say if MOM isn’t happy… well nobody is!) and really I no longer felt like a prisoner in my life, really that is worth priceless.
What also really helped is all the motivation and support I received from everyone.. because let’s face it, it’s the digital age, I kept track of all my workouts via facebook. Each “like” on a status update, and every “whooo hoo” or “wow that is awesome” gave me the motivation each time I had to lace up my sneakers or snap on my running cap. Of course there was other motivation, i.e. When I put these pants on in a rush to work (these are my magic pants.. no matter what clean laundry heap they are in they NEVER wrinkle!) and I get irritated because something just doesn’t feel right… I look down and duh its because they are too big and the crotch was twisted to the side… my frustration at life in general became elation… and I’m pretty sure I gave even more to my workout that day, and of course these pants are so big on me now, I almost can't wear them anymore... which is bittersweet,,, like I said these are my magic pants ;)
I did miss some workouts, either because I was just too to the bone tired, or one of the kids was sick, or you know… whatever… but bottom line I was proud of how well I had stuck to my plan and I actually felt (sort of) prepared for my race.
Race day came and went (I should do a race report on that huh??) and I felt like a million bucks… I was like yeah b!t*h I owned you!! Even though I think really it owned me… and after that (and a few pieces of chocolate cake for recovery) I was hooked on racing, and it kept me on track. I followed the sprint tri with a 10k, several 5k’s, an 8 miler and then two half marathons. 2010 was really MY year, a year to bust outside the box, break free of whatever oppressive chains society (and my family) tried to put on me...
Of course a full year (and some change) later I am still not where I want to be… I have 20-25lbs left to lose, I seem to struggle more now with fitting in workouts then I did then it’s almost like once 2011 rolled in I had high hopes but the momentum that propelled me through the previous year had lost steam… I was real frustrated with where I was until I realized DUH MAYBE my training had slowed down a bit, MAYBE I didn't log as many miles each week as I used to, and MAYBE I wasn’t following my current training as well as I was before but I still WAS I run 3 miles in an evening pushing the jogger like its nothing (ha well not nothing) and a year ago I could barley do that… I can do “real” pushups again… I can do pull ups (assisted) with less assistance then I used to need, I can lift heavier and hey… I am down almost 60 POUNDS!!! That is my 4 year old daughter… who I struggle to pick up now because she is so big.. I used to have that HANGING off my body from the time I rolled out of bed until the time I rolled back in… Everywhere I went (and every time I exercised) I had that on me…
I realized that the 20-25lbs I still have left to lose really isn’t THAT much in the grand scheme of things and the 10k that I feel undertrained for(that started this sudden pit of despair)…. I will be ready for you!
The moral of the story is, don’t make mountains out of mole hills, and before you let yourself get too frustrated over how far you have to go, look behind you and see how far you have come. You might realize you don't really have that much further to go. Use the comfort in that to help give you strength for the finish. <3
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