Goals

Goals.

I have them.

Okay, so clearly I've stated my goals in the past:

1) Complete the Pigman.

2) Not drown while doing doing #1.

3) Raise $1,000 for cancer research.

But I've learned that I'm "Short Term" Girl, the "What's in it for me?" Girl.

The "Show me how I can be better than I already am or I'm going to get bored and lose interest" Girl.

I need something to work towards.

So I've finally figured out a way to measure my training progress. These goals have been hard to come by as I have absolutely nothing to compare my training to. Sure, I can google "Triathlon Training Plans." But most of them assume a level of fitness that I haven't had since my climbing-the-furniture-gymnastic days.

And yes, I'm improving. I've increased my endurance for running and swimming, but how do I know that I'm on track for what I now will refer to as "The Ultimate Three"?

I had asked Ann, my swim coach, if she would help me set these goals for the swimming piece a couple of weeks ago. She proposed her idea at my last lesson. She's not much for tracking yardage, feeling truly that endurance is better. If I can swim for 30 minutes straight, the yardage will follow. I just need to slowly build up my endurance time.

She proved it me on Saturday by making us do our first continuous swim. She set our goal for 10 minutes of straight swimming. The only stopping allowed was to grab or drop our kick board every 50 yards. I'll have to admit, 10 minutes sounded like a long time to someone who hadn't been able to really get passed 37 yards straight.

But what did I have to lose? There were two life guards on duty, my coach, plus three guys in the lap lanes who were told were also "training" for the Pigman. (I'm guess that they're doing the long course in August and not the sprint). I really didn't have to worry about drowning. Only being embarrassed if I had to be rescued.

11 minutes later I had completed 300 yards of continuous swimming.

So back to my goals.

My Vegas vacation is on the horizon. We leave on Friday and won't be back until the following week.

1) Spinning will begin the following week. My first cycling goal will be to make it through my first class. It's all downhill from there.

2) Increase my swimming endurance by 1 minute each week for the next two months. Hopefully at that point, I'll be able to start working on my speed.

3) Continue working on my walk to run program.

***That'll be $10 please.

What I have learned in the past week and a half - Part II

Half a peanut butter sandwich (non-salmonella laced, of course) does not make a good pre-run snack.

I figured that since it was loaded with protein and carbs, it would be a good choice to get me through the run since it was getting close to dinner time.

It did get me through the run. It really didn't sit heavily in my stomach, as I had begun to worry that would in the last couple of bites. The downfall was the peanut butter belches.

Not tasty.

I've also learned to focus on short term goals.

About two weeks ago I got to the two and a half minute run/two and a half minute walk stage in the program I've been following. I felt that I was up for the challenge. Until I read how long the first day was supposed to last:

13 5-minute intervals.

65 minutes. (75 with my warm up and cool down.)

The longest run/walk to date.

Panic!!!

How on earth was I supposed to run for 32 and a half minutes? That's almost forever!

On top of the long program, I have been battling extremely tight and sore calves. No matter how much I stretched, I couldn't seem to get them to loosen up.

So I too a deep breath, stretched, tied on my shoes and got on the treadmill.

20 minutes later, I feel like I'm going to start crying like a little girl, so I give in and cut the run short.

Two days later, I tried again.

I lasted 30 minutes this time.

I tried again.

35.

Okay, so I was making progress, but the tightness in the calves wouldn't go away. And it's still not the 75 minutes that I needed to get through to make it to day 2 of this interval. Frustrated, I made an appointment to see one of my favorite people: the massage therapist.

Not only were my calves tight, but so were my hips. She worked out some knots, reviewed my stretches and then sent me on my way.

Eager to undo all of her hard work, I got onto the treadmill.

30 minutes.

Gaaahhhhhh!!!!

I talked it out with my husband and my mom. I wasn't looking for advice, just simply to vent and maybe get a new perspective. It worked.

So did ibuprofen, tiger balm and sitting in the whirlpool after my swim workouts.

These are three things that I now love.

I stretched this evening while going through my "just got home from work" routine, paying special attention to my hips and calves. I got on the treadmill with only the hope of making it to 40 minutes.

Baby steps.

So what if I don't progress as quickly as the plan says I could? This is why I began training in November and not two months before the triathlon. I have room to take it slow.

I love a challenge, though up until this point, only if it's something that I'm good at right away.

Time for that to change.

So I took the baby steps. I turned on my iPod and the close captioned the TV to a couple of back to back episodes of Scrubs and set out.

My first goal was to make it through the first episode.

Then on through the second.

"Hey, the Daily Show was coming on. What do they have to say about the historic events of the previous day?"

"Oh my! Look at that! "

77 minutes later, I turned off my iPod, and the TV.

And the treadmill.

I defeated the interval.

Thank you

Thank you.

I don't know how it happened, the barrage of emails from friends who seemed to know my struggles and frustrations last week before I had a chance to get it off my chest. Random emails came in from friends giving me words of encouragement, seemingly unrelated to my trials.

Was my doubt so strong that it could be sniffed out?

I swear I shower and use deodorant.

Whatever the cause, I appreciate it.

The words of encouragement helped bolster my sagging spirits and reminded me that this is just as much psychological training as it is physical. If I allow the doubt in, it could take root and undermine my determination. And we all know that is not allowed to happen. Too much is on the line.

Which brings me to my next thank you.

Thank you to those of you who have not only opened your minds to my decision to transform my squishy-couch-potato-self into a triathlete, but to those of you who have opened your wallets as well. Your decision to donate to the American Cancer Society will help continue to hold me accountable. I solemnly swear that I will uphold my end of the bargain come June. Thanks to you, I am already almost half way to my goal of $1000.

And now for the training update.

Swim is back in session!

A new coach has taken over the adult swim lessons. We've lost a member from last session and added another. All three of us are working toward the same goal now, not drowning during the tri. It's comforting to know that I will not be alone in this journey. Other people that I know will be floundering along with me.

Not to make light of the two previous coaches. I learned a lot from them. They helped me get over breathing under water and gave me a solid foundation on which I will continue to build. But this new coach kicked my ass! She introduced a nice combination of drills and laps and kept us swimming for about 50 of the 60 minutes classes.

She kept asking us if we hated her yet.

I think she really didn't want us to, didn't want us to think that she was pushing us too hard.

I did.

Just a little bit.

But it's all for for my own good.

Not to mention that I liked it.

In the Throes of the Winter Blahs

I survived the holidays.

We'll just start there. I survived.

Now I'm not saying the I had a horrible holiday season. Not by a long shot. Sure, the drive to Columbus to visit family was almost ridiculously painful. I think we managed to choose the absolutely worst days possible to make the drive, turning a nine and a half hour drive into 15 hours of white-knuckle steering. It was great spending time with family and catching up with some friends. But the sleeping in.... ah, the sleeping in....

While I was away, I learned my first real hard lesson about how important it is for me to do everything in my power to not miss training days. With the busy holiday season looming closer and closer, I neglected swimming and my newly established running program the last five or six days before hitting the road.

Determined to be good and get back on the horse, I jumped on my parents' treadmill early Christmas Eve morning to continue on with the walk to run program I had started a few weeks earlier. And the confusion set in.

Now, let me tell you that I have never once given any consideration to my preferences of treadmill features. Not even when my husband and I purchased ours several years ago. It was more for him than for myself. You got on it and ran. This made you sweat, which we have already established that, until very recently, I did not enjoy. I had no real intention of using it. At least not then, anyway.

Staring at the controls on my parents' treadmill I tried to find the button to press that would start me at my 3 MPH warm up pace. But it wasn't there. Wait, in fact, I couldn't figure out how to get it started at all. After a couple of minutes of searching, I realized that once you activated the master switch, you had to manually adjust your speed with the little up and down arrows.

Manual. Hmmmm. Okay, I can deal with that. I drive a manual transmission car.

My warm up went okay, but then it was time for me to kick it up to a run.

Do you know that to go from a 20 minute mile to a 12 minute mile, you have to hit that little button at least 20 times? When I say at least 20 times, it's because I've learned that, when you're really tired from running, the little button becomes less responsive as you shift to a lower speed. Maybe I was just beat and my hand-eye coordination was off, but I swear I had to hit the down arrow 50 times to get to an acceptable pace that would keep my from falling off the back of the belt.

20 minutes into my 50 minute workout and I was done.

I was pooped.

Finished.

Bummed.

I hadn't had a really bad work out at this point.

I did get back on the horse. I had a great run the next morning before the Christmas festivities could start. I learned my lesson.

I didn't get anymore treadmill or swim time before we traveled back to Iowa.

I've been actively persuing my running training while sadly neglecting my swimming.

Maybe it's because I feel lost without the structure of my swim lessons (which thankfully start back up in a couple of days). Maybe it's because I have an awesome, one touch speed treadmill waiting for me just across the hall from my bedroom. I don't know. I think I'm just in the throes of the winter blahs.

I need to add spinning into the training mix in the next week or so. I'm trying to figure out how to fit it all in without feeling like I've given my life over to the sport. Or maybe that's the point of this whole exercise.

Running this past Sunday was a good/bad experience.

Physically, it was great. I moved sucessfully to the next step in the program and increased my speed a bit. It was the longest walk/run workout to date. I should have been thrilled with my progress considering that I was the one in gym class to do just about anything to get out of the mile run fitness test.

But I wasn't thrilled.

Doubt set in.

I questioned myself for the first time since setting out on this journey. What the hell am I doing? Am I completely insane? I am not an athlete. I am a squishy couch potato who may very well drown in June.

I pushed through my running alternating between these thoughts and my mantra:

I am pain.

I am endurance.

I am defiance.

I will not fail.