Afraid to post

What is it about the fear of failing that can be so crushingly powerful?

Let’s back up a bit.  About 4 months ago I started training in earnest for this upcoming year of racing.  When I say “in earnest,” assume I am implying a normal training schedule for someone preparing for an IronMan race: controlled chaos at seemingly impossible levels of effort.

I sat down with my coach, told him what my goals were for the next 2 years, and he crafted a smashingly clever plan to get me there.  It was then my subsequent intention to log on to my fancy blog and tell you trusty readers all about my experiences: the successes, the whopping failures of days, the changes in my fitness, triumphant battles with our worst enemy…chaffing.

Good plan…I failed.  In fact, I have posted almost zero entries about these months of training.

Where did things go wrong?  Absolutely nowhere.  And that’s what hung me up.

Historically speaking, I will sign up for a race and tell the world about it so I become motivated to train.  That motivation usually lasts for a couple of months and then I start to unintentionally taper (AKA: come up with excuses as to why I am missing my training).  “I’m too busy, my patients need my undivided attention, I feel like I’ve used sandpaper to cover my bike saddle.”

Seeing that as my normal pattern, I was worried I would do the same this go ‘round.  How embarrassing for me to start posting weekly entries on my blog about my training triumphs to only have them gradually die out due to lack of training compliance.  I was afraid of failing with my training.  I was afraid of having to explain to my readers why I stopped training.  I was preemptively embarrassed about writing that all too familiar blog entry about how bad a race had gone because I hadn’t put the work in to prepare.

Flash forward to today.  Today I hopped on my bike, connected to a jazzy computrainer, and performed my 4^th FTP test to mark my fitness.  For those who have done this, you probably just had a vomit burp.  For those lucky enough to have never experienced an FTP test, imagine running at almost a sprint.  Now get gradually faster for the next 20 minutes solid.  If you don’t die while doing it, you get an average number at the end representing how much hell fire you can hold in your legs for 20 minutes straight.

Here were my results from the 4 FTP tests:

December 2013: 192 Watts.  Not bad I thought, but I hadn’t anything to compare it to.  I stupidly asked what pros hit and immediately felt short and unattractive.

January 2014: 215 Watts.  A clear improvement.  My training was paying off.

February 2014: 222 Watts.  A little better, but I was on my new bike.  Sounds like a good excuse, but the fit was totally different from the old bike and I had some accommodating to do.

March 11, 2014…

Knowing this was a 20 minute bout of nasty, I wanted to start my average number fairly high and see what happened.  As the testing went on, to my surprise, I kept getting stronger.  I was working like mad, but the number kept getting better.  Had my 4 strong months of training actually paid off?

I finished the test with a manly grunt, and once the dizziness subsided, I looked at my number.  After doing some quick math, my new FTP was 260 Watts!

That’s still not where I’d like to finish, but it’s a huge jump in 4 months.  Based on these numbers, and assuming the stars align like the IronMan Kona gods demand, I should be able to take around an hour off of my bike time as compared to last year.  That's not a typo, I said 1 hour!

So yes, I have been a bit hesitant to post about my training during this off-season.  I was afraid of failure to the point of inaction.  I was doubtful enough of my own ability to stay dedicated that I made the choice to remain silent.

Today’s results made me feel like I’ve finally got a hold on this training thing.  I find I’m spending less time worrying about what will happen if I fail.  I’m using less energy coming up with reasons why I missed my workout.  I’m wasting fewer resources rationalizing why this year won’t be my year and how I can look forward to future seasons.

And with all of this time to stop fearing failure, I wonder what will happen when I begin to fear succeeding?