humbled
because I’ve learned my lesson
It’s been one hell of a Spring. I mean, is Spring even here yet? Sometimes I’m convinced we’ll see snowflakes in May.
I can remember a time when I would toe the line of a race multiple weekends in a row, back to back to back. I certainly never thought twice about it and a PR on any given day wasn’t out of the question. My body bounced back time and time again, leaving me with a racing/runners high that lasted a few years. That’s not to say I don’t have days like that still, but they are so far and few between. And bounce back? What is that? These old legs are tired people…
I was still in Walt Disney World, had finished 3 of the 4 races that weekend, when Jodi thought she’d test me while I was riding that runner’s high. She texted me: Any chance you’d want to run a marathon in Myrtle Beach in March? Now, nevermind I was so sleep deprived that I thought Myrtle Beach was in Florida, because my gut response was: hell no, Florida is way to humid in March.
Fast forward a week later, I sat at my kitchen table, legs still slightly achy and tender from running 48 miles in Disney World, and I officially locked myself into another marathon, 7 weeks after after The Dopey Challenge. I knew for a FACT that this race could go 1 of 2 ways. It could go REALLY well, if I was able to ride out my run fitness for another 7 weeks. OR, I’d absolutely tank from lack of recovery and it would remind me that when Jodi asks me to do certain things, I need to think before I say yes. I’ll let you guess which of those 2 things happened. Did I forget to mention that I had also signed myself up for Ironman St. George the first weekend of May? By hitting the “purchase” button on that marathon, I single handedly had no idea how much I was truly about to challenge myself over the next 4 months.
That weekend in March was one for the books. Jodi, Michelle, and I laughed until our faces hurt. We winced in pain as the marathon settled into our legs. We held Michelle’s hair (for a long time) when her gut just wasn’t cooperating with the race day conditions. We rallied and drank wine on the patio overlooking the ocean. We walked along the beach with our cocktails hidden in mugs. We ate some of the best fish and reminisced on a quick but memorable 48 hours. We passed out (after a 5pm dinner and drinks) at a casual 8:30pm on a Saturday night and had 0 regrets. That weekend totally destroyed my lower extremities, but looking back there is no way in hell I’d ever take it back. That marathon reminded me to always stay humble in the endurance world. And the company reminded me to never stop having fun.
Fast forward 2 weeks later and I found myself on the start line of the March Madness Half Marathon. I knew I wouldn’t be able to race like I usually do, but I couldn’t let myself hold back completely. I settled into a cruise control faster than my legs were hoping for and around mile 11 I encountered a brutal and abrupt calf cramp that damn near took me to my knees. Needless to say, the last 1.5 miles of that race was my cooldown. My only saving grace was that Denise was at the finish line and immediately shoved her thumb deep into my calf.
Waking up the day after March Madness, I was a train wreck. I had officially ran the Dopey Challenge, a full marathon, and March Madness all in less than 90 days. And my “A” race was 9 weeks away. Cue panic attack. I knew nothing about St. George was going to be easy. Sometime after I had registered, Ironman announced that St. George would be the official host of the (postponed) 2021 Ironman World Championships. Registration was quickly shut off and the race turned into a “Qualification” only race. We were given the chance to defer to another race if we so desired. But who wants to do that? We signed up for this for a reason. However, the reality of the difficulty and competition we were up against suddenly became very real.
I won’t lie, I’ve been extremely anxious and overly nervous going into this race. Maybe it’s the water temperature that wouldn’t crack 60 degrees until about a week ago. Maybe it’s the 20–30mph wind gusts that are very common and much anticipated on race day. It could be the 90+ degree temps that come with racing in the desert. The climbs on both the bike and run are nothing I can’t handle, but 7000+ feet of gain on a bike kinda makes my palms sweaty. Let us not forget, training for such a race during a Chicago Winter/Spring (especially this one) is so much fun. But at the end of the day, I can’t tell you how calm and relaxed I’ve been this week. This will be my 9th Ironman. NINE. Holy shitskies. I’ve been reminding myself over and over again, it’s going to be hard for everyone, not just you.
It’s funny though. Five years ago I was totally different when it came to racing. I was easily 5–7lbs lighter. My diet was ALWAYS super strict during training. (Now a days I don’t know life without wine and cheese. Is there life without wine and cheese? Likely not.) And the pressure I put on myself was crazy. Something clicked inside of me over the last year. I’m not sure if it was life during COVID that flipped my switch or what. (It could have been the Ford F150 that shifted my mindset too, who knows). But I’ve taken a much more relaxed approach to racing this time around. And ironically, I think I might be the strongest I’ve ever been in all 3 disciplines.
At the end of the day, whatever happens on race day is just how the cookie crumbles. Call it age, experience, whatever you will, but I’m ok with how relaxed I’ve become. I also fully recognize that what I’m about to do isn’t easy, by any means (in so many ways). The human body is simply amazing and testing my limits keeps my fire lit. I’m so grateful for a healthy body that allows me to push myself. I’m grateful for my amazing husband who has embraced my love of this ridiculous sport 100% and hasn’t missed a finish line yet (and doesn’t plan on missing this one either). For my family who taught me to never settle. For my beautiful mother who actually smiled when I told her I was going to miss Mother’s Day weekend for a chance to race in such a gorgeous location (when her kids are happy, Mama Hode is happy). For my friends and training partners who have kept me sane and truly understand my itch to suffer on course. For my dear friend and coach Ryan, who has literally held my hand, whipped my tears (a lot), raced alongside me, celebrated with me, and everything in between in this sport.
Saturday is about to be a lot of fun, but we all know full well we’re going into that dark and lonely place where the grind is real. We need to find our momentum early and ride it until the end. Because momentum is a cruel mistress and she can turn on the dime of the tiniest mistake. But this venue. The atmosphere. The memories…
Buckle up, race day is almost here. I’ll see ya’ll on the other side.
Cheers.
#togetherness
