I do it, and I do it big. Here's to not forgetting about it.

Posts tagged ‘motivation’

Just put tape on it 

  
I missed a workout tonight, and I’m only sorry I missed it because I have to make it up tomorrow. It turns out if I want to run faster, I have to run faster. As much as I’d like to run from the facts (heh), there are people in my life who will not let me. 

I wish I wanted to do all my training. In fact, lately, I find myself not wanting to do much, training only because I know I must. I don’t even find the wedding dress business to be sufficient motivation. Why can’t I be more like 3M (pictured above), who has a solution – a way of mending or taping any problem – for everything? Even when she b*****s it’s oozing with potential and positivity! She knows it’s going to be hard and she is still excited about it. Many can be envious of her speed, including me, but if I could take anything of hers it would be her enthusiasm. Is there an enthusiasm workshop somewhere? Gah. I hear Blonde Oprah’s high-pitched voice but I can’t make out what it’s saying.

I don’t just want to train and get better! I want to like it! 

Second Friday: Adverse Side Effects

Did you know that eating right can be a moral hazard? Like it can make you loose in other parts of your life? 

I’ve noted that as I’ve completed 25% of the challenge, I have not been doing quite so well in other areas of my life. It’s as though I have a problem with doing so much good; that good decision making is some sort of zero-sum game. “I’m eating well and taking care of my body so that means I can be less disciplined with my finances” or whatever else. It’s weird, but not really. If you ever have used food as a reward and you are not using it any longer, it makes sense that you would replace it with something else. 

I wrote earlier about how I am a sucker for extrinsic rewards. This isn’t quite the same, but simply another indicator of how I’m just a baby in a 30 year old’s body. Apparently, I deserve some sort of reward for doing something I should be doing anyhow. Shouldn’t thinking of my pristine future bloodwork results be enough? But is this really so bad? To spend some money spontaneously when I’ve met all my obligations? Why can’t I just do perfectly all around, though?

In short – I suppose that the emotional weight we put on ourselves is heavier than any physical mass we are working to take off.  

 

Jackass! Race Report 

“Yeah, let’s do another trail run!” 

Oooooookay…

Not to throw my dear fiancé under the bus, but let’s just say he enjoys racing more than he does training. In the four weeks between our trail runs, he ran exactly 0 times. Moreover, he tells me that he doesn’t want to wear himself out for a family party we intended to attend later. Thusly, I ask, “would you like to do the same 4/2 strategy we did at our last race?” 

“Yeah, yeah, definitely. Let’s stick with that and we’ll be good.” 

We started toward the back and off we went. My watch buzzes after four minutes. “Time to walk!” I shout at him, since he’s ahead of me. “Nah, let’s keep going,” he says. ‘This is an interesting turn of events,’ I thought to myself. I had been planning on some chill bonding/running time and now here I am, in the middle of a race. At a race. I’ll be damned.

This trail was less woodsy and more sandsy. Less tree cover and I did not think it was as pretty as our last, but it was still very pleasant. The path this time was larger, but the sand was occasionally soft and made it harder to run than on the road I know and love. 

Mile 1 passes and he decides a walk break is appropriate. We walk/run as he sees fit for the next mile and a half, and on our last walk break I say, “Okay, less than a half mile to go! Let’s run to the finish. Go ahead of me.” Next thing I know, fiancé is blazing past me. I know he’s a man and I know he since he’s my man he damn well better be stronger and faster than I am but it’s just not fair. I’ve been practicing! He finished 30 seconds faster than I did and there he was, sipping some coconut water as I’m hauling to catch up to him. “Hey! So I pretended I was in trouble and running from the cops,” he tells me. I accompany him as he struts around the park asking for a photo shoot. “I’m gonna do even better next time! I’m actually going to train! When is our next one?”  

 

Guess I gotta step up my game! I SUPPOSE if I’m being honest I wouldn’t be motivated to get my next 5k under 30 minutes if he hadn’t shaved 9 minutes off of his 5k time in a month like it was nothing. We are going on the road for our next, and Mommy is coming too! I’m looking forward to working hard and a whole heap of trash talk.
  

At least this explains the fat – Part I of II 

I’m a big baby. 

This has dawned on me as I have been reflecting on the differences between this year and last year. On average, between January and May of 2014, I was racing every other weekend. Looking back, I suppose it was logistically tiring, but it was very exciting. Coachie told me throughout the year that while it may be fun to live that way, it makes it more difficult to plan a training schedule. I dutifully declined opportunities to race that had made me so happy previously. Between January and March of this year, I participated in exactly 2 races. Yawn. 

Which is exactly how I’ve been feeling about my training. 

When I was in graduate school for music education, I learned about the difference between extrinsic and intrinsic rewards. As we get older, intrinsic awards are supposed to mean more to us; for instance, a first grader will be more enthused about receiving a sticker for doing the right thing, but a high schooler will realize that the real reward for doing the right thing is invaluable. Finish lines are the new stickers, y’all. Seeing my physical progress, seeing the results on my Garmin – nope. Not feeling it. 

The payoff is coming, they tell me. They being the government, of course. But I want it sooner. I want to be comfortable in my skin, I want to giggle on Saturday morning races whether I PR or not. Dammit, I still need stickers. 



7:30.

“I’m predicting under 7:30,” she says.

She, of course, is Coachie. 7 hours, 29 minutes, and 59 seconds – or less – is now officially hanging over my head as my goal for my half-ironman. I had just said to her that I think I will finish in time (I have until 5:50 PM and I start at 9:12 AM) but apparently, triathlon coaches design plans with specific goals in mind for their clients. And share said goals with their clients. Who. Knew.

At first, I was bummed for a couple of reasons: 1) Now if I finish in 7:30:00 or longer, I didn’t meet my goal, 2) 7:29:59 or less is slow. So like, even if I make my goal, I’m still slow. Gross.

I confided in 3M that Coachie gave me a time goal. She asked me twice what it was and I wouldn’t tell her for the reasons I stated above. She then said regardless, she would be at the finish line waiting for me. Of course she will. She’s 3M. That’s what a 3M does.

After I bid her good night, I immediately regretted not telling her. I reflected on a post I saw on Facebook about a bike ride. “Easy ride,” the post read. “40-50 miles. 17-19 mph.” I laughed when I read it. “Easy for you, perhaps,” I thought to myself. When students in my class say bullshit like that, in an instance where they grasp something more quickly or are more experienced than another, I am in a place where I can reason with them and say “Hey. Maybe ‘easy’ wasn’t the best choice of words. It might not be a big deal for you but how do you feel when someone says something is easy when it is difficult for you?” The ones with no signs of conduct disorder reply sympathetically. With grown ups on Facebook, I just dismiss them as assholes. Then I make a second choice.

I. Will. Never. Be. That. Person.

I refuse to be the person that causes another person to be discouraged because I either A. Feel like I am not as good as I could be, whatever the hell I’ve made that out to be or B. do something with relative ease.

There are some who would rather die than finish a half-ironman in 7 hours and 30 minutes. I’m not worried about them. I thank God that I did not encounter some of these jokers before I got into racing. Not because they are faster than I am; don’t get it twisted, I’m no hater. I’m concerned with the people who are on the fence. The people who wonder if they have it in them to do things of which they never dreamed.

In 18 days, I have the privilege of trying something I never would have dared even a year ago. The only thing that could be more awesome than that is helping someone else to do the same.

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NB: As my race draws nearer, I’m going to use my blog to give props to specific people in my life that are making this possible. You’ve been warned.

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