Ok, so it's been a month since I've written. Actually, it hasn't, just a month since I've posted. I've got half a dozen posts saved as drafts, but I'm going to just delete them all.
This last week I got to spend alot of time in the car again. A work trip to Edmonton with some little jaunts off the main road here and there had me car-bound for a few days. While travelling I like to listen to audio books. Drives my kids crazy, but I find it a useful way to keep my mind working, and I usually come up with some interseting insights.
This trip I was listening to a book called BLINK by Malcom Gladwell. I've listened to it a couple of times before, but this time maybe I was just ready to hear a few things. The premise of the whole thing is that our minds - our subconciose minds - are capable of figuring things out long before we realize it.
He gives two examples in the beginning that are really astounding. One is the story of the Getty Museum's purchase of a statue. Experts analyize it scientifically and determine that it is consistent with being 1,000's of years old. blah, blah, blah. The Getty decides to purchase it. Another expert in antiquities is shown it, and as soon as the cover is lifted asks if they've already paid for it - can't tell them why, but says something is wrong. Two other experts have the same experience. Later it's proven to be a fake. In the blink of an eye these few were able to determine that it was a fake.
Second example: University test. 4 decks of cards - 2 red, 2 blue. Volunteers are told to turn over the cards as they choose. Certain cards will give them money, others will take it away. The game is rigged so that the blue decks will consistently pay out. The red deck is rigged so that you'll lose. It takes about 50 cards for people to figure out that the blue decks are better, and after about 60 they can explain exactly what's going on. What's interesting, is that there were monitors hooked up to the sweat glands in their palms, and they started sweating and showing stress in picking up the red cards within TEN CARDS! Their subconcious mine already had it figured out!
Gladwell goes on to explain that we can TEACH ourselves to listen to what our subconcious is saying - and in a BLINK we can "recognize the fake" conciously.
So, what's this all got to do with the price of rice in China? I'm finally learning how to listen to what my subconcious is telling me. Sometimes I have to really break myself down physically to be able to listen - which is why I think I had such a great "wake up" moment doing the 1/2 Ironman. I'm hoping that as I become more concious and self-aware I'll be able to be more authentic and able to make the changes I so want to make.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Being Authentic
Whenever I hear the word "authentic" I think of the movie "Bagger Vance" - a great movie. Well, today I'm recomitting to be authentic to myself.
3 years ago I started a journey to lose weight. It's had it's ups and downs - literally. And through most of it I've kept it pretty much to myself. I've been participating in the Lifestyles program through the Cardston Medical Clinic - and sometime I'll have to delve more into that, but the greatest value I've recieved is from a group counselling program that's tied to it.
The single greatest benefit from this group is that it's helped me to be more aware of myself and my surroundings. More aware of what I'm thinking, and why I'm eating what I'm eating. During the run of the half-ironman I did last weekend I think I've finally discovered some of those answers. They're very personal, and not something that I'm going to post here, but finding those answers has given me real hope that now I'm going to finally get back to where I once was.
So, as part of this whole process that I'm beginning anew, I'm going to try and post my weight-loss journey on at least a weekly basis here. Most likely this will be on Thursdays after I've had my group meeting and re-tuned myself to my thoughts.
3 years ago I started a journey to lose weight. It's had it's ups and downs - literally. And through most of it I've kept it pretty much to myself. I've been participating in the Lifestyles program through the Cardston Medical Clinic - and sometime I'll have to delve more into that, but the greatest value I've recieved is from a group counselling program that's tied to it.
The single greatest benefit from this group is that it's helped me to be more aware of myself and my surroundings. More aware of what I'm thinking, and why I'm eating what I'm eating. During the run of the half-ironman I did last weekend I think I've finally discovered some of those answers. They're very personal, and not something that I'm going to post here, but finding those answers has given me real hope that now I'm going to finally get back to where I once was.
So, as part of this whole process that I'm beginning anew, I'm going to try and post my weight-loss journey on at least a weekly basis here. Most likely this will be on Thursdays after I've had my group meeting and re-tuned myself to my thoughts.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Ironman wannabe
Wow - still amazes me how fast time goes by and how much happens without me posting anything here. I'm not going to try and catch up - this is about my experiences this weekend.
John had convinced me that I should do a half-ironman is Sept - this was in about JUNE. I thought that would be lots of time, so I said okay and signed up for the Vikingman Triathlon, 1/2 ironman distance down in Burley, Idaho. I knew that running would be my weak point, so thought I'd try to focus on that.
Training went terribly wrong right away. I was wrestling with my sons on the front lawn when I pulled the muscles in my abdomen. It was so painful I thought I'd done something alot more serious. It was 2 weeks before I could move and 3 before I could run even a little bit. Not good.
I did the Magrath Tri (Olympic) in July - and I had a hard time staying down in the aerobars on the bike (I was only there maybe 20% of the time) and the run was extremely painful. Not a good sign.
In August I did the Olympic distance tri in Park City, Utah. Fun event, and would like to return again, but again, very difficult run.
My highest running week consisted of a total of 25 miles - 13 at once, and a couple of 6 milers. Most weeks was under 6. The only biking I had done was one long day with John in June, the tris, a day on the rollers for an hour, and a couple of other 1 hour rides. Swimming was pretty much hit and miss, too, though I did get out for a couple of open-water swims.
For the first time since I can remember, the night before the race I was actually scared. I knew I was not ready. I resigned myself to "just finishing" knowing there was a good chance I wouldn't. I had grabbed an old back brace to wear, hoping that it would help support my stomache muscles enough that I could finish. I wasn't worried about the swim - it was downriver, and I was comfortable enough in the water. The bike is where I feel really comfortable, so while I hadn't been training hard, I knew it wouldn't present any major problems. It was the run.
4am came early Sept 11. I rolled out of bed, walked around a bit, got some breakfast, and grabbed my stuff. I tried to relax and just enjoy the atmosphere a bit, and that helped. I got my transition set-up and got marked up. Then it was off to the start.
It was a cold morning - 39F to start. That wetsuit sure felt comfortable even before getting in the water! A couple of timing mat issues delayed the start for a bit, but eventually we got going. I got adjusted to the water pretty quickly. It wasn't a difficult swim - and there were lots of places where people were walking. If you stayed within 50 feet of shore the water was pretty shallow. Unfortunately, the current is pretty slow there, too. No such thing as a free lunch! I lost John and Dennis right away. They're both faster swimmers than I am, so I wasn't suprised they were gone so quickly.
As I stood up to climb out of the water, who should appear beside me but John! What a great surprise. Not so much for him, but great for me! He'd zig-zagged more than me out in the deeper water, and the difference had brought us to the swim finish at the exact same time. Climb up on the dock, and start the run to the transition area (about 200 yards away.) HOLY COW! That frost on the grass was cold on the feet! Got the top half of my wetsuit off and came upon the strippers. "Lay down" they shouted to me - and poof! My wetsuit was off. What a great experience that was!
First transition was slow. I put on an extra pair of cycling short over-top of my tri shorts - it was 56 miles! Also put on a jersey, arm warmers, and leg warmers. Not exactly a speedy transition - but faster than John's!
I knew that I was still fighting pulled stomache muscles, so I hadn't taken my TT bike, opting instead for the comfort of my Tarmac SL road bike. The only thing I did to improve aerodynamics was to wear my TT helmet and throw on a disc wheel. 3 miles in John went flying by me. I caught back up and we rode side-by-side for a little over 20 miles. We passed alot of people, and got passed by a few of the speedy ones, and a few that I guessed were doing the Olympic. Never saw Dennis on the ride. Shortly after the 24 mile mark I looked over to John and he was fighting to bring his aero extension back up. This road was ROUGH! Not as bad as the Death Valley Double had been a few years ago, but awfully close. His bars had worked loose and so he had to stop. I kept on going. I found out at the end that he also ended up with two flat tires. At the half-way mark I'd realized that I was on track for a 2:40 bike. That was 20 minutes faster than I'd figured I'd be able to do. It didn't finish that way. I managed to really slow down the second half and finished the bike in just under 3 hours. Transition #2 wasn't much faster than the first one had been. It had warmed up and I stripped off the arm and leg warmers, plus the bike shorts.
Surprisingly, I did not have the dead, painful, cramping legs that I was expecting. Had I maybe eased off enough on the bike? I didn't know, but it was a change from EVERY other triathlon I'd ever done. I wasn't exactly speedy, but I knocked out 3 miles at a sub 10 minute/mile pace. That doesn't sound like much, but it got even slower over the next 3.5 miles!
The first 5 miles of the run was out through some absolutely desolate country - or at least it seemed that way to me! It even had a stretch where we ran beside a runway at the airport. It was also the longest stretch between aid stations. I made a point of drinking at every station. Oh yeah - and the weather decided to warm up for us! Great, cold swim, hot run.
As I came into the Olympic finishing area (a VERY cruel thing to do - have a finish for the Olympics that we had to run by only half-way through...) I saw the clock - it read 4:49 - I realized that if I could knock of the next 10km or so in an hour and 10 minutes I could break 6 hours. That was something I never had even imagined, as I was fully expecting a 7 hour day. Stupid me - I kicked the pace up to a 8 minute mile. That only lasted for about half a mile and then reality kicked back in.
As I was running I was thinking how wise I'd been with my nutrition. I hadn't had any feelings of bonking. I didn't feel dehydrated. I hadn't had any cramps. I was thinking that even though I wasn't in good shape, I was doing pretty good! I saw Dennis at the 8 mile mark - he was on his way back, so only had a mile and a half left - he wasn't going to break 5 hours, but he'd be close. Except that he was having serious stomache issues. He had to slow down alot. I think he finished around 5:18
Finally saw the 10 mile turn-around - now only three more miles to go. You'd think that knowing there was only a 5km run left would be encouraging. That I'd be thinking really positive thoughts. That's not what happened to me. It took my full concentration just to keep my feet moving. All I wanted to do was walk. Thoughts entered my head of "you're not going to break 6 hours anyway, just walk it in.", "Nobody will know - hey, you finished, right?" With 2 miles left to go I passed John on his way out. Apparantly I didn't look as good as I thought I did.
Then my stomache started to rebel. I felt like I was fighting every part of my body. Before I knew it I was half-hunched over, retching as I stumbled along. I'm not really sure how I kept my feet moving, but I knew that if I stopped, I'd never be able to start again.
I started to have visions of rounding the final straight and seeing the clock tick by 5:59... and not be able to sprint to get under 6. Why did 6 hours suddenly mean so much to me?
12 miles done, 1.1 left. I had figured I'd need a 2:20 run time to get under 6 hours. My garmin was telling me that was going to be hard to do. My pace was down to 12 min/mile. The little changes in elevation on the path were getting harder and harder to deal with.
13 miles. Only .1 left. How long can .1 of a mile be?? A VERY long way. I could see the finish, but wasn't sure I could keep my feet moving. Then I saw the clock... 5:57..5:58... I raised my arms at the finish. Not in victory, I was a long way behind the winners. But I had done it. I had finished my first half-ironman, and I had done it in under 6 hours.
EDIT: The official results are now up, and I did NOT break 6 hours. My official time is 6:02:41. Missed it by 3 minutes.
John had convinced me that I should do a half-ironman is Sept - this was in about JUNE. I thought that would be lots of time, so I said okay and signed up for the Vikingman Triathlon, 1/2 ironman distance down in Burley, Idaho. I knew that running would be my weak point, so thought I'd try to focus on that.
Training went terribly wrong right away. I was wrestling with my sons on the front lawn when I pulled the muscles in my abdomen. It was so painful I thought I'd done something alot more serious. It was 2 weeks before I could move and 3 before I could run even a little bit. Not good.
I did the Magrath Tri (Olympic) in July - and I had a hard time staying down in the aerobars on the bike (I was only there maybe 20% of the time) and the run was extremely painful. Not a good sign.
In August I did the Olympic distance tri in Park City, Utah. Fun event, and would like to return again, but again, very difficult run.
My highest running week consisted of a total of 25 miles - 13 at once, and a couple of 6 milers. Most weeks was under 6. The only biking I had done was one long day with John in June, the tris, a day on the rollers for an hour, and a couple of other 1 hour rides. Swimming was pretty much hit and miss, too, though I did get out for a couple of open-water swims.
For the first time since I can remember, the night before the race I was actually scared. I knew I was not ready. I resigned myself to "just finishing" knowing there was a good chance I wouldn't. I had grabbed an old back brace to wear, hoping that it would help support my stomache muscles enough that I could finish. I wasn't worried about the swim - it was downriver, and I was comfortable enough in the water. The bike is where I feel really comfortable, so while I hadn't been training hard, I knew it wouldn't present any major problems. It was the run.
4am came early Sept 11. I rolled out of bed, walked around a bit, got some breakfast, and grabbed my stuff. I tried to relax and just enjoy the atmosphere a bit, and that helped. I got my transition set-up and got marked up. Then it was off to the start.
It was a cold morning - 39F to start. That wetsuit sure felt comfortable even before getting in the water! A couple of timing mat issues delayed the start for a bit, but eventually we got going. I got adjusted to the water pretty quickly. It wasn't a difficult swim - and there were lots of places where people were walking. If you stayed within 50 feet of shore the water was pretty shallow. Unfortunately, the current is pretty slow there, too. No such thing as a free lunch! I lost John and Dennis right away. They're both faster swimmers than I am, so I wasn't suprised they were gone so quickly.
As I stood up to climb out of the water, who should appear beside me but John! What a great surprise. Not so much for him, but great for me! He'd zig-zagged more than me out in the deeper water, and the difference had brought us to the swim finish at the exact same time. Climb up on the dock, and start the run to the transition area (about 200 yards away.) HOLY COW! That frost on the grass was cold on the feet! Got the top half of my wetsuit off and came upon the strippers. "Lay down" they shouted to me - and poof! My wetsuit was off. What a great experience that was!
First transition was slow. I put on an extra pair of cycling short over-top of my tri shorts - it was 56 miles! Also put on a jersey, arm warmers, and leg warmers. Not exactly a speedy transition - but faster than John's!
I knew that I was still fighting pulled stomache muscles, so I hadn't taken my TT bike, opting instead for the comfort of my Tarmac SL road bike. The only thing I did to improve aerodynamics was to wear my TT helmet and throw on a disc wheel. 3 miles in John went flying by me. I caught back up and we rode side-by-side for a little over 20 miles. We passed alot of people, and got passed by a few of the speedy ones, and a few that I guessed were doing the Olympic. Never saw Dennis on the ride. Shortly after the 24 mile mark I looked over to John and he was fighting to bring his aero extension back up. This road was ROUGH! Not as bad as the Death Valley Double had been a few years ago, but awfully close. His bars had worked loose and so he had to stop. I kept on going. I found out at the end that he also ended up with two flat tires. At the half-way mark I'd realized that I was on track for a 2:40 bike. That was 20 minutes faster than I'd figured I'd be able to do. It didn't finish that way. I managed to really slow down the second half and finished the bike in just under 3 hours. Transition #2 wasn't much faster than the first one had been. It had warmed up and I stripped off the arm and leg warmers, plus the bike shorts.
Surprisingly, I did not have the dead, painful, cramping legs that I was expecting. Had I maybe eased off enough on the bike? I didn't know, but it was a change from EVERY other triathlon I'd ever done. I wasn't exactly speedy, but I knocked out 3 miles at a sub 10 minute/mile pace. That doesn't sound like much, but it got even slower over the next 3.5 miles!
The first 5 miles of the run was out through some absolutely desolate country - or at least it seemed that way to me! It even had a stretch where we ran beside a runway at the airport. It was also the longest stretch between aid stations. I made a point of drinking at every station. Oh yeah - and the weather decided to warm up for us! Great, cold swim, hot run.
As I came into the Olympic finishing area (a VERY cruel thing to do - have a finish for the Olympics that we had to run by only half-way through...) I saw the clock - it read 4:49 - I realized that if I could knock of the next 10km or so in an hour and 10 minutes I could break 6 hours. That was something I never had even imagined, as I was fully expecting a 7 hour day. Stupid me - I kicked the pace up to a 8 minute mile. That only lasted for about half a mile and then reality kicked back in.
As I was running I was thinking how wise I'd been with my nutrition. I hadn't had any feelings of bonking. I didn't feel dehydrated. I hadn't had any cramps. I was thinking that even though I wasn't in good shape, I was doing pretty good! I saw Dennis at the 8 mile mark - he was on his way back, so only had a mile and a half left - he wasn't going to break 5 hours, but he'd be close. Except that he was having serious stomache issues. He had to slow down alot. I think he finished around 5:18
Finally saw the 10 mile turn-around - now only three more miles to go. You'd think that knowing there was only a 5km run left would be encouraging. That I'd be thinking really positive thoughts. That's not what happened to me. It took my full concentration just to keep my feet moving. All I wanted to do was walk. Thoughts entered my head of "you're not going to break 6 hours anyway, just walk it in.", "Nobody will know - hey, you finished, right?" With 2 miles left to go I passed John on his way out. Apparantly I didn't look as good as I thought I did.
Then my stomache started to rebel. I felt like I was fighting every part of my body. Before I knew it I was half-hunched over, retching as I stumbled along. I'm not really sure how I kept my feet moving, but I knew that if I stopped, I'd never be able to start again.
I started to have visions of rounding the final straight and seeing the clock tick by 5:59... and not be able to sprint to get under 6. Why did 6 hours suddenly mean so much to me?
12 miles done, 1.1 left. I had figured I'd need a 2:20 run time to get under 6 hours. My garmin was telling me that was going to be hard to do. My pace was down to 12 min/mile. The little changes in elevation on the path were getting harder and harder to deal with.
13 miles. Only .1 left. How long can .1 of a mile be?? A VERY long way. I could see the finish, but wasn't sure I could keep my feet moving. Then I saw the clock... 5:57..5:58... I raised my arms at the finish. Not in victory, I was a long way behind the winners. But I had done it. I had finished my first half-ironman, and I had done it in under 6 hours.
EDIT: The official results are now up, and I did NOT break 6 hours. My official time is 6:02:41. Missed it by 3 minutes.
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