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? 

Swim Camp?!?

For any of you who know me well, a blog entry titled "swim camp" must have you intrigued.  Me going to swim camp is about as likely to happen as Kathy Griffin going to a religious based finishing school.  Let's qualify that as not so likely.

And yet, hold on to your spandex, I did indeed go to swim camp...on purpose! I wasn't even tricked into going.  Forget that, I actually paid for the stupid thing!  What the what?

Think I'm exaggerating?  Here's all the backstory you need: last year before the gun went of for IronMan Mont Tremblant, my swim training consisted of 2 workouts...total.  One was an open water swim in a lake that lasted about an hour, and the second lasted 32 minutes in the basement of a NYC pool.

God how I wish that was dramatically enhanced to make this a better story, but that truly is how much I trained for an IronMan swim.  It went super well, as I'm sure you can imagine.

So now that you know how much I love swim training, picture me on a plane headed to Ft Lauderdale for 3 days of nothing but swimming.  Was I drunk?  You'd better damn well believe it.

I'm about to say something inflammatory.  A truly offensive and disrespectful statement.  I'll likely offend many of you and have certainly offended myself...

I enjoyed swim camp...

Gross!  What a filthy thing to say, right?  I'm ashamed and only hope my Mom is not reading this, never mind my coach.  Imagine what he would do with such information.  He might actually expect me to swim before my next race.  Oooooohhhh, I just got chills!

But you know, there really is something about flying somewhere (warm climate helps) and having nothing to do but pretend you're a professional athlete.  Wake up, eat breakfast, swim, eat lunch, take a nap, go for a quick run, stretch, swim, eat dinner, go to bed, repeat.  I could get used to that schedule.

So the fact that I didn't hate my life and spew curses at my fellow swimmers was pretty surprising, but the coolest part of the whole weekend was some of the company we shared the pool with.

I'm a tattoo fan as you might have gathered and there was some pretty impressive ink on a few of the athletes.  Picture 5 interlinking rings of different colors...  Yep, there were freakin' Olympian level swimmers in the lanes right next to us.

Partly this made us all feel like short, unattractive girls at the school dance who sit in the corner with no one asking them to dance.  Ok, maybe it just make me feel like a short and unattractive girl.  Welcome to my life.  But watching these guys swim was an incredible experience.  Holy hell can they move!

And that was the highlight.  I don't fancy myself someday becoming an Olympic swimmer, as I'm probably more likely to sprout gluten-free baked goods from my nose, but it was pretty amazing to swim with the likes of these dudes.  To see what the human body is capable of.  To see how efficient someone can move when so well trained.  To see how damn good you can look in a speedo if you work out 30 hours a week...

Am I a swimmer? Nope. Will I be super excited tomorrow when I do my obligatory swim session of the day? Highly unlikely. But perhaps, and bare with me here, I just might not hate it.  I just might get in that water and do my workout without whining like a little bitch.

And that my friends is progress.

Deep thought Tuesday: the impossible dream

To dream the impossible dream...  No, this is not a review of musical theatre, but where I am today as an aspiring triathlete rock star.

A few years ago, I firmly believed that to finish an Ironman was pretty much humanly impossible. Asking my body to do this was akin to gluing impressive amounts of feathers to my arms and flapping my arms fast enough to fly. And while I did repeatedly try, I can't tell you how much it hurt my body, not to mention my pride, when I came crashing back to earth from the heights of my childhood garage. It's just not meant to be done.

Same with Ironman. Running a marathon is freakin hard enough. How could I do that after this epic swim and bike?

And yet, I've done it thrice.

I artistically used the word thrice there. It made me feel fancy. Athletic and grammatically competent?  There are so few of us...

Point is: I am pretty addicted to attempting things that seem impossible. Within reason, of course. And while my attempted flying days are long finished, the feeling I get when I am finally able to achieve that previously decided impossible goal is just about the best feeling ever.

"Chad Woodward, you are an Ironman!"  Sure he said my name wrong, but I wasn't hatin'. That was the most incredible sentence I had ever heard, perhaps seconded only by "balding men with beards are totally sexy," but I didn't log on to tell you about that...

What I did log in to say was that it is time for another goal. Nothing ventured, no chance for public embarrassment, right?

This past weekend, as many of us know, was the World Championship Ironman in Kona, Hawaii. Our Super Bowl. Qualifying for this race is damn near impossible. Uh oh. There's that "impossible" word again!

Naturally, I'm obsessed.

And so that, dear reader, is my goal. It's crazy, bordering pathological thinking, but it's where I'm at. It sounds impossible for me to pull in a time fast enough to qualify in my age group. For those of us paying attention, it would be a sub-10 hour Ironman. My current record is 11:59. I've got some work to do!

And yet, that is what this deep thought is all about: set a goal for yourself that sounds absurd. Challenge yourself. Aim high. The only thing in your way is probably you. Nothing more true than that statement in my own goal setting.

If I get out of my own way, I can accomplish anything imagined.

And so, I am doing that. Getting out of my way.

I'm also trying to stop talking to myself. I never enjoy the conversation and it draws attention. I won't be that guy anymore.

So, loyal readers, what goal can you set for yourself?  What sounds impossible?  What can you surprise yourself with?

Write it down here. Leave a comment. Tell me what you are going to challenge yourself with. If to no one else, be accountable to me!