“So…you nervous?”
I've been asked this question at least four times a day for the past week now. It's generally accompanied by a knowing grin and a slight eyebrow raise. Not that I mind. Everyone wants to know how I'm feeling in the last few days before I compete in my first half Ironman.
This race is basically the reason I moved to Girona last fall. The past few years of constant world travel have been an amazing gift, but my lifestyle hasn't included as much consistent physical activity and goal setting as I'd have liked. So after a lazy 2014 in which I (happily!) watched the pros ride their bikes, I decided it was my turn to do the same.
Packed to leave NYC
I'm a runner first, but I love riding and am not likely to drown any time soon, so I joined a local tri club where, by chance, the coach happened to also speak English. Under his guidance, I've spent the last four months working on my swim technique, increasing my riding endurance, changing my running stride, and building general strength. Some days have been tougher than others and I recently looked back through my training logs to realize with some surprise I've put in multiple weeks of 16-20 training hours.
But when you train in this open water, on these roads, and in these mountains, even the hard days are a little bit easier.
Of course, there's more to training that just sweating. There's also a lot of resting. Cue my yoga mat and balcony.
When I lived in New York, I did a handful of sprint distance tris and ran in tons of races ranging from the mile to the marathon. While I generally got faster, I never really got fast. A couple of weeks ago, I ran in a 10k where the race village was literally at my front door and the start/finish line was about 30 paces away. More importantly, I got fast! I set a new personal record of 44:12, knocking about five minutes off my old PR.
This past weekend saw the start of the local tri season, so I signed up and thought of the race as training. It was useful to practice transitions in a race situation, although I'm still not wild about the inevitable kicks and punches at the frantic start of a group swim. The women's race didn't start until the men's race was winding down, so I was really excited upon exiting the water to see (and hear!) the guys from my tri club had stuck around after their race to cheer for me, the only woman competing from our club.
I felt fresh in all three disciplines, despite a strong current, a mechanical issue on the bike, having to climb a punchy hill six times (“No, no, don't worry, the course is flat!” said my coach), and wondering mid-run if the run course was two laps or three (it was two, thank goodness). In fact my 5k run was a PR in itself (20:43) and the whole race was an overall PR by almost 40 minutes.
So, after all the time and effort I've put in so far, and now in the last day or so before I head to Aix-en-Provence, France to spend the weekend with friends I haven't seen in a long time, celebrate my 34th birthday, and line up for my first half Ironman, am I nervous?
No. I'm lucky to have the opportunity to invest my time and soul in this passion of mine.
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