Note: I wrote a post about tapering that I really liked and then accidentally deleted it, here it is as close as I can remember it. After deleting it I simultaneously wanted to punch something and cry. This combination of emotions isn't that weird for me, but seriously, that violent of a response to something so minor? Pretty much sums up my emotions during tapering.
So tapering... Less working out plus more time to sleep equals more energy, right? Hardly, I feel tired and sluggish, and my calves feel swollen, like they're too big for my skin (I think that's more from our 90+ degree weather than tapering though). All I want to do is eat and sleep; I spend my evenings watching How I Met Your Mother, which is a great distraction, but then I go through withdrawal during the day when I can't watch it. I feel grumpy and anti-social. Even though I can't think of anything except Ironman, its the last thing I want to talk about with anyone because its impossible to put into words how I actually feel. Yes, I'm nervous, yes, I'm excited, sure, I feel ready (the most usual questions). I'm also dreading it arriving, dreading it being over, worried about getting injured or sick, worried about it being too hot, too cold, too windy, too rainy or some combination of those that makes the race directors cut the race short like they did with the Boise 70.3 last weekend I'm excited to have my life back but worried what it will be like when the thing that's been consuming it for the last 11 months is over. Since I started grad school my identity has been built around doing an Ironman and I'm not sure who I'll be when its over.
All those things aside, I am feeling pretty prepared. I did another century ride a few weeks ago and it went much better than the first. I started feeling grumpy towards the end again but this time there were mini-candy bars at the 70- and 90-mile rest stops. A few chocolate bars did wonders for my mood; I think I'm going to put a few in my bike special needs bag (you put whatever random things you think you might want in it and can pick it up after 56 miles) for the race. I ran for one hour right after the century ride (which took me 5:50) and for three hours the day after and neither was as hard as I was expecting, so that was good. Yesterday Sarah and I went out to East Canyon reservoir (~55 degrees, the coldest body of water I could find here) and I swam for just over an hour (~1.5 miles according to Google maps) while she kayaked next to me and yelled at the jet skiers who came too close. Between all the boats and a little wind the water was decently rough; nothing like IM SG but probably close to what a good day in CdA will be like. I was fighting panic for the first ten minutes or so, the waves were pushing me around and making me dizzy and disoriented. After that I found a good rhythm and started to enjoy the waves for breaking up the monotony: would the next breath bring a mouthful of water? Just a light splash in the face? Oh the little things that training makes you appreciate... I'm feeling less nervous about the swim now, although having over 2700 people around me will obviously be a little different. I'm planning on starting off at the back to avoid as much craziness as I can, probably on the left though, which will be more crowded than the right (the loop goes counterclockwise and I veer to the right when I swim so I don't want to end up even more off-course). My plan is to just focus on making it to the next buoy. That's pretty much my plan for the whole race: focus on making it to the next aid station or other marker, and only think about one loop at a time.
So yeah, that's where I'm at. I'll drive up to Spokane/Coeur d'Alene on Wednesday; I'm excited to be surrounded by all things Ironman, it'll be nice not to have to pretend to care about anything else (not that I'm doing a very good job of that at the moment, clearly, since I'm in lab right now...). I'll probably do another pre-race post, but in case I don't get around to it, my race number is 136. You can look me up by that or my last name on the Ironman website to see how I'm progressing. I'll ask my sister to post updates on my Facebook as well.
Welp, see ya later!
So tapering... Less working out plus more time to sleep equals more energy, right? Hardly, I feel tired and sluggish, and my calves feel swollen, like they're too big for my skin (I think that's more from our 90+ degree weather than tapering though). All I want to do is eat and sleep; I spend my evenings watching How I Met Your Mother, which is a great distraction, but then I go through withdrawal during the day when I can't watch it. I feel grumpy and anti-social. Even though I can't think of anything except Ironman, its the last thing I want to talk about with anyone because its impossible to put into words how I actually feel. Yes, I'm nervous, yes, I'm excited, sure, I feel ready (the most usual questions). I'm also dreading it arriving, dreading it being over, worried about getting injured or sick, worried about it being too hot, too cold, too windy, too rainy or some combination of those that makes the race directors cut the race short like they did with the Boise 70.3 last weekend I'm excited to have my life back but worried what it will be like when the thing that's been consuming it for the last 11 months is over. Since I started grad school my identity has been built around doing an Ironman and I'm not sure who I'll be when its over.
All those things aside, I am feeling pretty prepared. I did another century ride a few weeks ago and it went much better than the first. I started feeling grumpy towards the end again but this time there were mini-candy bars at the 70- and 90-mile rest stops. A few chocolate bars did wonders for my mood; I think I'm going to put a few in my bike special needs bag (you put whatever random things you think you might want in it and can pick it up after 56 miles) for the race. I ran for one hour right after the century ride (which took me 5:50) and for three hours the day after and neither was as hard as I was expecting, so that was good. Yesterday Sarah and I went out to East Canyon reservoir (~55 degrees, the coldest body of water I could find here) and I swam for just over an hour (~1.5 miles according to Google maps) while she kayaked next to me and yelled at the jet skiers who came too close. Between all the boats and a little wind the water was decently rough; nothing like IM SG but probably close to what a good day in CdA will be like. I was fighting panic for the first ten minutes or so, the waves were pushing me around and making me dizzy and disoriented. After that I found a good rhythm and started to enjoy the waves for breaking up the monotony: would the next breath bring a mouthful of water? Just a light splash in the face? Oh the little things that training makes you appreciate... I'm feeling less nervous about the swim now, although having over 2700 people around me will obviously be a little different. I'm planning on starting off at the back to avoid as much craziness as I can, probably on the left though, which will be more crowded than the right (the loop goes counterclockwise and I veer to the right when I swim so I don't want to end up even more off-course). My plan is to just focus on making it to the next buoy. That's pretty much my plan for the whole race: focus on making it to the next aid station or other marker, and only think about one loop at a time.
So yeah, that's where I'm at. I'll drive up to Spokane/Coeur d'Alene on Wednesday; I'm excited to be surrounded by all things Ironman, it'll be nice not to have to pretend to care about anything else (not that I'm doing a very good job of that at the moment, clearly, since I'm in lab right now...). I'll probably do another pre-race post, but in case I don't get around to it, my race number is 136. You can look me up by that or my last name on the Ironman website to see how I'm progressing. I'll ask my sister to post updates on my Facebook as well.
Welp, see ya later!
