This morning I came internally unglued.
I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve been burning the candle at both ends or if I drank too many vodka sodas last weekend, but either way I woke up irritated, hot and mega-p*ssed off. Maybe I’m going through early menopause. Maybe I have a few life situations that need to be ‘handled’. Or maybe, today was the first day in a 6-month monster training cycle I finally felt like shouting f* it. (I didn’t. But I sure wanted to…)
Here’s a little known truth about me:
It doesn’t matter if I’m tired, pissed, owl-ly, ornery, obliterated, otherwise obligated, otherwise occupied, bleeding, half-dead, hungover or a mega-mess. I never call a workout unless death is eminent. (I may not be the best or the fastest triathlete but by gawd I’ll go down as one of the most consistent.)
When my alarm went off at 4:00 a.m. this morning, I laid in bed for a few minutes doing a quick run-down of my ‘wtf might be wrong’ checklist.
Left arch still burning? Check.
Right butt cheek still aching? Check.
Soft tissue smarting from yesterday’s time on the trainer? Check.
Hair and skin still stinky from yesterday’s swim? Nope.
Hamstrings and calves still tight from Sundays’ race? Check. Check. Check.
Having assessed my physical condition to the best of my ability, I rolled out of bed, hit the deck and crawled to the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot. (I’m only kind-of kidding on the crawl bit.) I then headed for the bathroom; along the way snagging a pair of cycling shorts and a t-shirt.
Not cute but at least covered, I make my way back to the kitchen and proceed to swallow 4 ibuprofen, 15000 mg of vitamin D, one calcium tablet and 3 ‘make-me-thin’ detox pills. I fill my water bottle with 3 Nuun tabs and a packet of Emergen-C to keep me company on the bike. I then prepare my favorite coffee concoction, (coconut oil, Truvia, Bulletproof™ and milk), and set everything on my 4 wheeled kitchen cart which is permanently parked 6 inches from my trainer. (See pic up top.)
The production alone is enough to p*ss a person off, eh?
The first 10 minutes on my bike I’m so tired my brain isn’t registering where we are. (It’s 4 o’clock in the morning for hells sakes.) But 15 minutes in, something shifts and my mood went from mostly disinterested to hugely destructive. Here’s a glimpse of what was running through my mind:
- Why the f* am I doing this?
- I quit.
- Who does this much for one race?
- I hate this sh*t.
- I hate my bike.
- I need a day off.
- I need a f*ing YEAR off.
And the faster I pedaled, the madder I got.
Note: In my mind I fired a few clients, broke up with a dozen or so commitments, friends and responsibilities and quit training for my upcoming half-Ironman. It felt sooohooo good.
Not yet done with my crazy, I get off my bike, remove my clothes, tug on my running gear and pack up all of my anger so I can take it with me on my run, too.
[Hint: Here’s where the magic happened…]
I spent the first two miles mad as hell. Mile 3, I started to cry. Mile 4, I calmed down. And by mile 5, I was ready to let all that sh*t go. I came home feeling stronger, more determined and resolved to take back the power in ALL areas of my life.
And that’s the blessing of training, right? If you let it, it will heal you.
P.S. I was shopping on Amazon the other day (big surprise…) turns out I’ve placed 50 orders in the last 6 months. Do you think that’s obsessive?
P.S.S. Want my top secret formula for determining if you’re race ready? Join my free Sole Sisterhood here and it’ll be in your inbox Thursday morning!
P.S.S. I stopped by the local tri store this weekend – when I walked in a super cool lady (Diane) was standing at the counter and asked , “Are you Brook?” Me: Yes. “Brook Kreder?” she asked. Me: Yes. “OMG, I read your book ONWARD! and loved it… we ran our first marathon around the same time a few years ago!” Click here to snag your copy on Amazon, I promise it’s a bucket of laughs + cuss words!