It's a New Day

When I started this journey in January of 2004 I didn't know where it would take me, only that I needed to get somewhere. I started from a place one can only call absurd: 270 pounds, daily migraines, nearly bedridden from crushing fatigue. But once I had a means to overcome it - newly diagnosed and life-changing prescription in hand - I was resolved to recover the real me through diet and exercise.

Frankly, it was a joke to call those first tentative steps on my broken old treadmill "exercise."

I stuck with it and it wasn't too long before I felt justified in claiming that I did, indeed, "exercise." And not long past that I felt comfortable saying "I work out." This internal dialogue - and external phrasing - changed about the time I decided to tackle a triathlon.

And psychologically, that's where I been ever since. That was almost 2 years ago.

Now, you may notice there's a word that's conspicuous in its absence: Training.

Of course, I toss it around in casual posting... but I always feel a twinge of guilt when I do. At least, for this audience. It's one thing to tell a civilian I train for triathlons... it's another to claim it among those who truly do the thing, and do it well.

Thus far, my version of training has meant indulging in ill-informed, self-planned, half-assed workouts that could be considered training only in the most abstract sense. Yes, I did the activities. And yes, I did them with increasing frequency and duration in order to be physically able to complete a race distance.

But to claim I have ever trained for an event would be the grossest of exaggerations.

And that was fine until now. Because honestly, my health and fitness level were coming from a place so hopeless that even the most moderate training plan was beyond my reach. I'd buy the books and magazines. I'd pore over the websites. And then I would close the book, throw out the magazine, close the browser. Because the Training - yes, capital T - proscribed by those resources was so far beyond my abilities I routinely questioned my sanity for even aspiring to race. Because if I can't even do the workouts... what on earth makes me think I can do the event?

I knew this was crazy. I accepted it. And I only chose races that accommodate those like me. I assumed this year would be more of the same - doing my best and quietly hoping nobody would notice I'm not doing any of the things we're supposed to do to truly prepare us for these events. Because I couldn't.

BUT.

This time, when I read my new issue of Triathlete, I didn't skip over the Olympic training plan like I usually do to avoid being confronted with my inadequacies.

So I read it. And you know what? This time around, it doesn't look so bad.

This time around, I can do the things they're telling us to do. And even better, I understand the WHY - a crucial factor for me in any endeavor. I Get It. Base training and speed intervals and tempo training and key workouts and the whole gloriously fucked up complex mess - I GET IT!!

And even better: I. Can. Do. This.

My whole world is suddenly alive with possibility. I had the tools all along, but until now they'd been useless in my hands. Somehow, somewhere along this journey I acquired the skill to use them.

2007 isn't just a new season. It's a whole new world.

Let's race.