TODAY…RIGHT NOW.

The Spring thaw has begun, the Olympics are half over, and my toenails are growing back.  Although the lull between the marathon and Ironman training has been put to good use (lots of skiing, and getting over a huge cold), it's time to enter into another season.

So it begins.  Today is my first official day of training for Ironman Boulder.  It's the first day out of 168 days. 24 weeks from today, it's all over.  Hundreds of hours of training stand between me and reaching my goal.  There are friends of mine who are all doing the same race, but each training plan is as unique as their fingerprint.

This event has been on my calendar since mid-November, when I purchased an online training plan.  Through the website TrainingPeaks.com, I got a 24 week plan geared toward women who have some experience with triathlon, but is entering their first Ultra-distance event.  The plan includes a 100 page training guide that covers nutrition, training techniques and race day tips.  It starts with 5 to 6 hours of training a week for a few weeks, then quickly gains momentum.  By summer, I'll be clocking 14 to 16 hours a week until mid-July.  The taper…well, let's not get ahead of myself, so ask me how I feel about the taper when it gets here.

Six months seems like a long time to train for one event.  Maybe it is, but this is uncharted territory.  I don't know what kind of preparation I will need to bring to the start on August 3rd.  I figure, 6 months gets me going well enough that when I end up with some cold my kid brings home, I still have a base upon which to build.  I also have a huge vacation planned.  My family and I are spending a week at Walt Disney World.  Let's just say, that I think Ironman may be easier.  I also would like to have some semblance of life outside of training.

Last year, I crammed 3 races into 5 months of training.  This year, due to budget constraints and lessons learned from last summer, I do not have any more races planned between now and Ironman.  Although I would love to do a century ride, the local schedule doesn't line up with mine, and traveling to an out of state race is out of the question after Phoenix, since I need so save a bit of scratch for the Mouse.

What am I doing differently this training season?  Well, lots of swim/bike/run.  Duh.  But also, I'm adding in strength training.  There are different schools of thought around this.  One idea is not to waste energy on strength training, as the sheer volume of triathlon training is already taxing.  The flip side, though, is weight training that is specific to the muscles and endurance building improves triathlon performance.  I'm talking light weights, lots of core work and high reps.  I also secretly love strength training.  Whether or not it will actually improve my performance, isn't as important reducing the risk of injury.  Basically, the stronger I am, the more I can take.

Another thing I want to do differently is eat better.  Actually, I think I'm eating better anyway recently, but I find my self being very conscious of my fuel intake.  Nutrition is considered the fourth discipline in triathlon.  Well, I have three words.  Girl Scout Cookies.  I'll let you know how it goes.

Lastly, I'm going to make an attempt at Heart Rate Training.  I may have to devote a whole blog over this issue.  In short, my heart rate data does not reflect the common "220 minus your age" maximum heart rate.  I have always struggled with navigating the data I do get, coupled with the fact that I have a hard time keeping a chest strap in place around my smallish ribcage.  But, I'm going to make an attempt at gathering this data.  It just makes me crazy.  Stay tuned for more on this issue.

Ultimately, my goal is to cross the finish line.  At all.  A respectable finish time, and my ideal goal is based on my 70.3 time of 6:15.  The general rule of thumb is, we double that time (12:30) and add an hour.  I would be beside myself if I finish Ironman in 13 hours and 30 minutes.   So what will that look like?

Well, anyone who knows me, knows my swim will land in the to 10% of my age group.  I'm looking at my 2.4 mile swim finish of 1:10.  As I'm not competitive enough to dial in my transitions, I'm hoping for sub-5 minute T1.  Then the bike.  I have no idea what 112 miles on the bike will feel like, but I'm shooting for an average pace of 17.5 mph.  This gives me a bike time of 6 hours 24 minutes.  Yes, it hurts to even think about it.  T2 has always been quick for me, but again, shooting for sub-5 minutes.  If I am to hit my goal of 13:30, my 26.2 mile run needs to come in around 5 hours and 46 minutes.  Give or take.

So here we go.  I want to thank you all for the support you have shown me so far.  It gets hard from here, so all of the "Atta girls" are huge.  I'm looking down a long road.  Some of it will be great.  Some of it…not so much.  By the way, you might want to buy stock in Advil, Gatorade and Chocolate Milk. I'm not sure what I'm feeling right now.  Scared?  Nervous?  Indifferent?  Excited?  Maybe all of it.  I almost want to say something inspiring and thought provoking…but, I got nuthin.  I guess, even though I have a well researched training plan and lots of motivation, I'm looking at this as a "one day at a time" process.  If you were to view my training plan, I have at least one workout 6 days a week already on the calendar.  I pour over this plan, moving workouts here and there in an effort to maximize the training. But today…right now...it feels like, "one down, 167 to go."

IT'S THAT TIME AGAIN…THE OLYMPICS

To me, nothing is more inspiring than watching the Olympics.  I love both seasons when they come around, whether Summer or Winter.  The Summer games show athletic prowess in the true spirit of the Ancient Greek philosophy, but the Winter Games provide an additional element: danger.  In almost every Winter Olympic event (figure skating and curling I the only exceptions that come to mind), helmets are required.  Does that tell you something?  Frankly, going 90 miles an hour down a sheet of ice on a tiny little sled…face first…speaks of something not quite right in the head.  Oh, and then they call it SKELETON.  But dang is it fun to watch.

Although we are only a few days into the Sochi games, I am reminded of past performances…the ones that really stand out.  Scott Hamilton, Bonnie Blair, Picabo Street and the USA Hockey teams.  These folks were not only in their peak physical condition, but they made people stand up and take notice of their sport for a couple of weeks.  

But then I think about those that made headlines in other ways.  Remember Eddie "The Eagle" Edwards?  He was the British Ski Jump participant who turned heads by the fact that he came in, not just dead last, but by a significant margin dead last.  But I remember his goofy look and winning smile just as much.  He knew he wouldn't win a medal.  No one had that expectation of him.  He is the epitome of the Olympic spirit…that for so many athletes that participate in the games, just making it in is the accomplishment.  For them, they just want to be called an Olympian.

And what about Dan Jansen?  If there is a role model for me from any games, it is this guy.  For more of his story (in case you don't know it already) check out this video http://www.youtube.com/watchv=wPYiMekC6jk.  This guy had trained like a machine for years and years and years.  He participated in 4 Olympics!  As a thought experiment, think about where you were in your life during the Salt Lake City Olympics.  Yeah.  That was a while ago, huh?  Now imagine an athletic career lasting that long.  For those of you my age, do your knees work just as well as they did 12 years ago?  Right.  So this is Dan Jansen who, although he was favored to win gold in every games, only has one.  

Dan Jansen is someone I consider an "everyman."  Bad stuff happened at exactly the worst time…happens to all of us.  He had some really bad days…happens to all of us.  He felt like he wasn't even "all there" for some of them…wait, you, too?  He was distracted, frustrated, mourning…in effect, living in a human body with human emotions at a time when he was expected to be superhuman.  I admire his fortitude.  I admire his real-ness.  It is unfathomable to skate faster than humanly possible the day after your sister dies.  But he did.  And he fell.  Then he got up again.  Then he did it four years later.  Then he fell.  Then he got (are you sensing the theme here?) up again…and so on.  Until he got that gold…the fourth time around.  I don't know if he feels this way, but I see it as not being as much about the gold as it was about proving to himself that he could actually accomplish what he set out to do in the first place.  He wouldn't give up his dream until he achieved it.

Dan Jansen never quit, even after a slew of awful days, and less than perfect race events.  I am not an Olympian.  Never will be.  But I know what a bad day feels like, and I know what it feels like to just go out and get in a workout no matter how crappy my life is at the moment.  I know what it is like to train through the pain -- not physical pain, that is something different.  Working through the emotional agony of life-altering events through physical exercise.  DJ didn't use the excuse of his circumstances to justify his performance, but no one would begrudge him that if he did.  

So I wonder what that is, exactly.  What kind of internal drive brings that?  It's not just a don't quit attitude, stubbornness, or pressure from oneself, family, or country.  I think it's also about seeing yourself years later, looking back on the moment right now.  What if you have to say to yourself, "if I had only…"  Jansen showed up and tried.  Didn't go the way he wanted it to.  But instead of quitting before he started, he tried, failed, got up again, repeat.  As far as I'm concerned, he needn't have any regrets for suiting up and showing up.   

The lesson I take from his example is this: between now and Ironman, I'm going to have some bad days.  This is a fact.  It may even be a bad day on August 3rd (God, I pray that it isn't).  But I will suit up, show up, and do the best I can with what I have been given at that moment.  There are no medals in my future except the ones they give to everyone else who crosses the finish line.  There are no sponsorship deals, book contracts or news interviews for me.  But that isn't why I'm doing this, and I don't think that's why Jansen did it either.  I want to try my hardest at a sport I love.  

Hannah Kearney, Moguls medalist, recently referred to her relationship with skiing as her "boyfriend."  When we have significant others in our lives, we love them and do so much to be with them.  But to quote Billy Joel, "you may love 'em forever, but you won't like 'em all of the time."  I feel like that sometimes with triathlon.  Jansen probably felt that way with speed skating.  But, like with all good relationships, you figure out what the problem is, work on it, push through it, and hopefully get stronger.  Dan got stronger, and he has Lillehammer gold to prove it.  However, even without it, he's still a champion in my mind.

Before the Olympics officially started, Heidi Kloser sustained a knee injury in a mogul training run.  Her games were done before they ever started.  In tears, she asked her parents if they would still think of her as an Olympian.  What I found interesting is that she marched with her teammates -- on crutches -- in the next day's Opening Ceremonies.  I think everyone in the world would have answered her question with a "yes," but more importantly, I think she believes that she is indeed an Olympian.  I don't know, but in my mind, nothing matters more than whether or not you believe in yourself.

I am a triathlete, because I love to swim, bike and run, but I also believe I am an Ironman.  I just have to cross a finish line to prove it to myself.