The relationship of which I speak is the new one I have with my spirit and body. It happened the way I hear many great romantic relationships occur – spontaneously and intensely, just as I was ready to give up. It has changed my life for the better in a manner that is difficult to miss if you knew me any time prior to January 2013. I have a renewed joy and confidence that once seemed out of reach. Who wouldn’t want to grow in a relationship like that? More races + more distance = more help. I’m no dummy. I asked my tri coach for a plan, and she obliged.
Why, you ask? It’s not as though I wasn’t used to swimming, biking, and running. All I had done was meet with her, tell her what I’m doing already, and then she wrote it down with added specifics. However, the more I looked it over, the more I freaked out. I received the plan on a Saturday, the plan was to start on a Monday, and I didn’t actually work out until Wednesday. I was supposed to work out twice and I believe I only worked out once. I had said that I was listening to my tired body, but in retrospect I stressed myself out so much from overthinking the plan that I lost sleep. I was supposed to upload my training from my Garmin with myConnect. Nope. I was supposed to check in with my coach weekly. Hell no.
I can often be heard telling my students that if they haven’t prepared themselves, I understand why they freak out prior to a performance. St. Anthony’s was looming and I had done maybe – conservatively – half of the workouts she had prescribed for me. Nobody knows better than I do, yet I chose to sabotage myself mentally.
Classic fear of failure, y’all.
Race on April 27. I had my DNF story ready to go for the 28th – “Yeah, I had a plan and a great coach, but I didn’t follow the plan. Maybe next time I’ll have learned my lesson. Damn, damn, damn.” Now I’m on the other side, having completed the race, a bit curious as to what it could have been like had I trusted my training more.
I’m happy to say that I’m not beating myself up. I did show up on race day, finished with the time goal I had hoped for, and that is to be lauded. However, I am annoyed that I allowed my fear of failure to impact my decision making. It’s not as though I get half-priced plans for half-hearted effort. What the hell is failure in this context, anyway? If I had gone as hard as I could and didn’t finish, what would it have meant? Try again next race, no? Which is exactly what I’m doing anyway.
I am happy to say that this week I have completed all my workouts so far and am on track to complete what’s in store for the weekend! I’m less scared of Red Rocket and now have seen that I am a competent swimmer – I just have to do the work to continue improving.
I can’t say that I am rid of my fear of inadequacy. The idea of my best not being enough is simply terrifying. The only thing more terrifying is giving up all I have gained.
149 days to Augusta! Tee hee 🙂 ❤