DISCLAIMER: What you are about to read is not really how I feel all the time. What follows is a representation of a disease called jealousy...a symptom of poor self-esteem. And not just mine. You could take the word triathlete and replace it with runner, yogini, businessperson, parent, spouse. We each have demons, and sometimes they pop their heads up when you least expect them. What I believe is that I am a dedicated triathlete. I will follow my own path, and do what I think is right for me. What follows is not a pity-party, just observations about how we can fall victim to our own perceived short-comings...emphasis on the word "perceived". I believe I am the best triathlete I can be, and most days, that's all that matters.
However one thing became very clear as I continued my voyage to 140.6. There are some hard core triathletes out there. I learned something else, too. I am not one of them. For every one of you that has complimented me on my dedication to this sport (first of all thank you), there are people out there who are so over the top for triathlon, they are already up the next hill. I mean this literally, and as a metaphor. These are the folks to crunch more data per workout than I will in a whole season. They custom order their nutrition and know their way around their bikes.
Jealousy is a terrible companion, and nowhere in my life have I felt its presence more than when I look at other triathletes. We all have our own methods and our own ways of doing things, but when I get close to other athletes, my demons of poor self-esteem come niggling back. I have to wonder if I'm just not enough...not __________ enough: fill in the blank (skinny, fast, fit, strong). I don't notice all the time, but when I'm out on the bike or running for hours at a time, I notice. I notice when someone passes me up a hill (which happens a lot). I notice when I see someone running toward me on the path and she looks more like she's flying than running. I notice at the pool...maybe my shoulders could be stronger, or I try to out swim the guy in the lane next to me. I notice when someone has the audacity to look like they are enjoying themselves when running in 90 degree weather.
Bike envy is the worst. While Gary is a great bike and has served me well, he is an entry-level Time Trial bike. I added a few components to make him fit better, but there are few bells and whistles. When I go to race expos or set my bike up on transition, bike envy is the first thing that hits me. I feel like I brought my tricycle. It's made a bit worse by the pictures on the aforementioned Facebook pages that make me sometimes want to hide my little bike. It just feels like I don't belong next to someone's $6000 Shiv with Razr wheels and custom solid carbon fiber frame. And it's likely that this is their "race only" bike. A lot of REAL triathletes have at least two bikes. One road bike on which they do the bulk of their training, and their TT bike that they have to get special permission from the Smithsonian to use. I can barely afford to keep one bike...and he's lucky he's not wearing concrete shoes.
Training is another way in which I differ. Although I followed my coach's plan almost to the letter, I did one 100 mile ride. I slogged through hot, long runs, and every minute of it sucked after a while. When I fire up my computer and check the CDA training page, for every one of me who is complaining about the heat and/or duration of their runs, there is another who can't wait to get out for their 3rd century ride of the season, or pile on hours of brick runs.
And time goals. Going into this season, I had an idea of how long it would take me to finish. I'm not even going to recap those, because frankly, it doesn't matter. The one thing I have no control over will make any time goals practically unattainable. The weather is going to be in the mid-to upper 90s on race day. Finishing is the only goal I care about (finishing without a trip to the medical tent is even better), and I'm throwing out all other time goals. I don't know, does that lessen my credibility as a triathlete?
And time goals. Going into this season, I had an idea of how long it would take me to finish. I'm not even going to recap those, because frankly, it doesn't matter. The one thing I have no control over will make any time goals practically unattainable. The weather is going to be in the mid-to upper 90s on race day. Finishing is the only goal I care about (finishing without a trip to the medical tent is even better), and I'm throwing out all other time goals. I don't know, does that lessen my credibility as a triathlete?
Then there's the "one and done" philosophy. I have this misperception that anyone who subscribes to the idea of doing one full distance race and calling it quits isn't really a "serious" triathlete. Unfortunately, there are actually people out there who believe that. I have a few choice four letter words for those people. Look, I get it. The IM community will tell me up and down that once I cross that finish line, I'll want to do another one. And another after that...and after that. I can tell you right now, that if I cross that finish line, yes. I may want to cross another IM finish line. Sure! Sounds like fun!! Crossing the finish line is not the issue. It's the 5 months of training before that I'm not crazy about. So much of my life has been put on hold to get this done. I miss my crazy, diverse life, and giving all that up for a second IM finish is not important to me. Sorry, not sorry.
I won't say never. Because maybe I'll come to a point in my life when it makes sense to do another Ironman, but frankly, I cannot come up with what that would look like. I just want to get this one done and go back to enjoying the training. I want to enjoy races like Run Disney, easy sprint and Olympic triathlons, and maybe another 70.3 or two next year. But another full distance? Not feeling it.
My bike is average. My riding is middle of the pack. I'm a terrible climber. I freak out when I go over 30 miles per hour downhill. I am a slow runner. I walk more than I run. I despise running after 10 a.m. I carry a few extra pounds, drink a glass of wine on occasion and eat ice cream after my really long days. I don't have $20,000 worth of bikes and cycling gear. I don't have an M-Dot tattoo, and I may not get one. I don't like spending hundreds of dollars a month on coaching, massages, race nutrition and replacement gear. I don't want to train for 5 months at the expense of singing in church, going out to movies, playing with my kid, quilting, or visiting my family.
Because of all of this, some may see me as a poser. A wannabe. Maybe I am. But since my opinion is the only one that matters, I don't think so. I'm as ready as I'm going to get, and I'm not looking back on this training season wondering if I've done enough. I plan on running my race, my pace. I will get passed repeatedly, likely even lapped. I don't care. In 9 days, I will hear someone call out "Heather Jergensen, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN." And I will scream, cry, jump for joy, and collapse in a heap. Because in that moment, I won't be pretending. It will all be real.
No comments:
Post a Comment