My nerd socks are on. Forgive me, but they do remind me of the nerdy socks from grade school, of course I believe ZOOT has made them unforgettably functionable though, so I plan to keep them on 24/7 during race week (it's here)! Hapalua this Sunday, my heart is beyond ready. My head too. The legs are getting there and the doctor gave me the "green light" on Friday to resume back to normal "triathlon training & racing".
For about a split second today the flood of excuses that paralyze any athlete who entertains them, tried to plant seeds of discouragement in me. Things like, "I've only run 7 times this season, my foot is still mending, I'm over my race weight, I've yet to do any speed work". Those lame things. And then I remembered that Hapalua is the race where Kenyans come to show us how "running is done". No excuses. They run to get out of poverty, shoeless often times. They run for opportunity, for their families, refraining from any possible doubts of lack. I lack nothing and hold hope, big hope, that Sunday will be a welcome filled half marathon with grits, guts, great stuff, humbleness, and opportunity nicely blended together, getting me back into the race season.
The doctor also gave me a pep talk on Friday, about the sum of all parts. All of who I am. Now that I'm well on my way to having a strong foot again he had to kindly remind me of the lesson (one of them) that the 12 week experience of brokeness taught me: That I am more than a triathlete.
I already knew that. We talked about what I had to mentally overcome, stumbling at times, as life took on a lot of changes. Anyways, the 3 months just sent me with a bunch of seeds to the garden. Things sprouted, matured, and this weekend we ate (and drank) lots from our garden that all grew up while I was healing. I'm not entirely sure where this post is going, maybe I'm just trying to say that this weekend will finally be the finish line of what felt like sitting on the sidelines of my life.
Finally, a little Sunday battle. This weekend was the Peaman Biathlon. The local fun always brings about training partner competitiveness. It was my excuse to force a good open water swim effort against the high school kids. Truthfully I thought they would all be sleeping in, so I showed up in a bikini thinking it would just be a matter of fun, but they woke up early and kicked my @$$ like usual. The good news was that I felt pretty good and suffered enough to run up the beach with the first bunch of them. The best part was sitting at the swim finish catching my breath while waiting on Mike to get out of the swim so we could run together (he thought I'd never have patience to wait to run). For the foots sake I had no plan of "racing the run", just cruising it with him, whatever pace he felt like. We had a very nice run and at the end of it all he dared to believe I'd hand in my finish stick because it might be too humbling to see in the News Paper results. Well, he was wrong...
19. Mike Masuda 50:20
20. Bree Wee 50:21
I was 20th place and proud of it!
Today he asked what I ran my "sort of strong run pace" last week. I told him 7 min pace. He said, "Didn't you need 6? Can you go 6 min pace this weekend?" I'm starting to think he is more worried than I am at results. Baby, I am not afraid, just happy to be running again...