Looking for the void

If you have any (even one) runner friend on any sort of social website, you probably saw this amazing cartoon by The Oatmeal posted at some point today.  If you didn't, read it now.  Read all 6 parts.

I'll wait.

Done?  Ok, welcome back.

Here's my favorite part:

"I run because I seek that clarity.  Maybe it's superficial.  Maybe it's just adrenaline and endorphins and serotonin flooding my brain.  But I don't care.  I run very fast because I desperately want to stand very still.  I run to seek a void.  The world around me is so very, very loud.  It begs me to slow down, to sit down, to lie down.  And the buzzing roar of the world is nothing compared to the noise inside my head.  I'm an introspective person, and sometimes I think too much, about my job and my life.  I feed an army of pointless, bantering demons.  But when I run, the world goes quiet."

Seriously, if you haven't read it yet go do it.  The cartoons are just as important as the words.

If anyone ever again asks me why I run (or why I run so much), I will silently text them the link to that cartoon and then walk away without speaking.  Said person may initially think I am weird, anti-social, and rude.  But they'll get it eventually.

Here's the one thing he left out though: sometimes, on some days, no matter how far or fast you run, it doesn't happen.  You don't hit the void and you don't feel the quiet.  This happened when I ran a marathon 3 weeks ago, for example.

But, the one thing I've learned about running (and stated here many a time) is that some days just aren't your day.  I've been a runner for long enough and run enough races to know that the next day, I'll get there.  And if not, then the next day.  Eventually, it will all be worth it.

I trust running.  As unreliable as it may be on a day to day basis, it has always been 100% reliable for me over time.

Me, loving running.  At least I think so, it's a very old
picture and I don't remember how I was feeling on this
particular day.  But I look happy.

Triathlon training is different.  Now that my "I'm training for a triathlon!!" high has worn off a little, I'm realizing it's kind of hard.

I don't know how anybody trains for a triathlon while working a full time job.  I feel like my job is training right now.  If I ever decide to swallow the largest crazy pill and train for an Ironman, I will have to choose one that is perfectly timed for me to do peak training during the summer when I'm on vacation.

I don't trust cycling and swimming the way I trust running.  I trust swimming a little more than cycling, but I haven't been doing it enough in the past couple years to really trust it.  Me and swimming and cycling, we're all trying to figure out how we work together cohesively.

I realized after reading that super-amazing cartoon today, that the problem I'm currently having with swimming and cycling is that I haven't gotten to the point where I hit the void.  When I'm cycling, I'm constantly worried about how fast I'm going, what gear I'm in, how much my butt hurts, or whether the car turning up ahead is going to cut out in front of me and send me tumbling.  When I'm swimming, I'm worried about the lake monster that is going to appear slowly from the depths of Green Lake and silently take me under.  And more legitimately, I'm constantly trying to determine if I'm swimming in the right direction and wondering if I'm swimming too far out--will I be too tired on the way back in?

That water may look serene and pristine, but in reality it's green and brackish
and hiding a family of lake monsters covered in warts that are no where near
as friendly as I imagine Nessie the Loch Ness Monster to be.

I wish I had started this blog 5 years ago when I started running, so I had a record of my thoughts the way I do now.  Did I love running right away (doubt it)?  Did I get really discouraged on the bad days?  Just how elated was I on the good days?  Did I experience the same extreme ups and downs of daily exercise?  How clueless did I really feel?  When did I realize that the benefits of running far outweighed all the tough stuff?  Or that the tough stuff is exactly what makes running so amazing?  When did I learn that taking pride in the fight was the best part?

Because right now, I just feel tired.

Here's the past few days' training recap:
Thursday: 40 minute Boot Camp (lots of push ups, squats, lunges, etc.) followed by an easy 3 mile run.  Then a half mile Green Lake swim.  By the end of the day I was sore and exhausted.
Friday: 60 mile bike ride from my apartment out to Marymoor (to eat the most amazing bagels in the world) and back.  It was mostly flat, but I started off with really sore legs from Boot Camp and I was fully spent by the end.
Saturday: guilt-free rest day
Sunday:  5 mile run.  Again, I felt slow and I was dragging.  I felt like it was all I could do to keep my pace even close to a 9 min/mile (this could also partially be attributed to the extreme Seattle heat at 2pm and the fact that I was kind of dehydrated and hurting from the previous evening's festivites).
Today: 38 mile hilly bike ride out to Mercer Island, around it, and back.  This included 3,000+ feet of elevation gain.  While I enjoyed speeding around the rolling hills on Mercer Island, I was still really tired.  And I was riding with Ironman Jason and Ironman Annemarie (why do I have so many friends who are Ironmen?), both of whom are currently training for another Ironman, and both of whom are much faster than me on the bike.  So not only did I feel tired, but I felt like I was their lead foot.

And then when I got back from the ride, instead of having that awesome, accomplished, post-ride afterglow, I just felt tired and run down.  Is there such a thing as a biker's high?  If there is, I don't think I've ever experienced it.

I'm trying to keep in mind that prior to Friday's 60 miler and today's (rounding up) 40 miler, I had only been on the bike a total of 5 times this summer with my longest ride being just 30 miles.  I'm trying to remind myself that that would be like running 5 times after a few months off, then doing a half marathon and being disappointed in myself for feeling tired.  That's just silly.

The hardest part I've found about actually training for a triathlon is following the training plan.  I'm amazing at following training plans for running.  Because for running, all I need at the bare minimum is me and my shoes.  I know what I need to do, and I know when I'm pushing it too hard.  I know exactly how fast I want to/should be going and I know how to rest my body when it needs it.  I know how to listen to my body when I'm running, interpret its signals, and give it what it needs.

But for swimming and cycling, I feel clueless.  How far is too far?  How fast should I be going?  Am I just tired or am I bonking?  When and how do I fuel adequately?  How many times a week should I be swimming?  Am I exhausted because I'm doing too much, or am I exhausted because I had a good workout?

I'm also still in the mode where I really want training partners.  I don't want to do a 3 hour bike ride by myself.  I want a fellow swimmer in Green Lake with me so that someone knows I'm missing when the monster family snatches me.  But that also leaves me at the mercy of coordinating schedules with my summertime training buddies.  Most of the time, this works out great, but sometimes I want to swim when they can't.  Or I don't really want to bike that far, but I will because they are.

And there's the fact that I'm not really following a training schedule at all closely.  I have an outline for one, but I haven't looked at it more than 2 or 3 times.  I don't even know what week I'm supposed to be on.  I'm just keeping 3 swims, 3 runs, and 3 bikes a week on my mind.  I'm increasing my own intensity and length, but not according to any particular schedule.

Basically, I'm a horrible example of how to train for a triathlon.

When it comes down to it, I know that I can swim 1.2 miles.  I know that I can bike 56 miles (I did more than that on Friday).  And I certainly know that I can run a half marathon.  I am also fairly confident that I can do all 3 on the same day.  The big unknown for me is how much it is going to hurt.  How hard is it actually going to be?  People I know who have done half-Irons tell me that they're easier than running a marathon, but that's not really the best comparison for me.  Because running a marathon is really, incredibly hard.  There are a lot of things that are "easier" than running a marathon, but still monstrously difficult.

How am I going to deal with the mental battle of the race?  How much mental training do I need to do and how hard am I going to have to fight?  That's the scariest unknown.

I think I need to buckle down, reset, and refocus.  I need to actually look at the training plan, reassure myself that I'm doing ok, and relax.  This is my first major triathlon, and I want to have fun with it.  In my last marathon, I forgot to have fun and I think that's a big part of what did me in.  For this, I want to enjoy it.  I have no time goals or restrictions.  I just want to get out there and do it and feel it and have fun with it.  And then pat myself on the back and smile.

Because at the end of it all, "Demons are forgotten.  Krakens are slain.  And blerches are silenced."  What could be so difficult about that?