Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Monday, July 8, 2013

Seeing the Good.

I cried in the pool on Saturday.  Shocking, I know.  But after a string of sub-par workout sessions for the past week, the emotions took over as I stood at the side of the wall while I was lapped.  One part of me said, "Whatever, no big deal.  Just keep swimming."  Another voice said something else, and I was stupid enough to listen to that voice.  Then the tears started coming, and I was embarrassed that something so trivial as being lapped could release an avalanche of negative thoughts.  As I finished up the swim set, I thought about Amanda Beard's book In the Water They Can't See You Cry: A Memoir.  No, I never read it, but I thought it was a catchy title.

The title of her book was true- up until I hit the wall and Coach and Hulk were there and they saw me cry.

Speaking of books, I finally finished reading The Life of Pi.  Some people say that the tiger Richard Parker symbolizes the violent, ferocious side of humanity that allowed Pi to survive in the ocean.  The tiger-like aspect of human nature emerges when it is faced with the will to survive.  This potentially vicious and dangerous side of his personality stands in tense opposition, yet shares an occasional partnership with the gentle, kind, loving nature of humanity- and this delicate dance between the two is illustrated through how the boy Pi and the tiger are both enemies and allies.  


I loved how Pi's name was short for "la Piscina," one of my favorite places.
And so I finally finished reading this by la piscina. #fitting
Similarly, Ironman training can bring out the worst and the best in all of us.  Instead of being on a boat alone for 227 days, you're in the pool, on the bike, and on the running trails for 243 days (~8 months of training).  There are those 'aha!' moments where everything clicks, when you hit your target pace, and when dreams are becoming a reality.  And then there are those moments when you feel tired- perhaps physically and emotionally- and every swim stroke, pedal stroke, or run stride feels heavy and hard- when you look around, compare, get angry, get negative, and start to question things...

Even for someone like myself who has been called "Ms. Sunshine and Rainbows" by a few people and who likes to the celebrate the notion of PMA, sometimes it is hard for me to see [enter squinty Asian eyes joke here] the good in the hard times.  When I get to this tipping point, I know what I need to do- and sometimes it means to take a mental break and step away...




And so yesterday, I knew the best thing for me to do was to:
1) Ride my bike somewhere new, preferably near the water 
2) Ride with someone not doing Ironman- someone who just likes riding their bike to ride their bike
3) Run new trails
4) Remember the joy
5) Get the miles in 
6) Stop thinking about if I am feeling fast/slow, if my running stride feels heavy/light and think about how awesome it feels to be able to move my body and see amazing sights
7) Focus on the good

And fortunately, all of the above happened.


My first coast ride ever-
there's something about the ocean and bikes together that heals everything...
Still all smiles after 75 miles
And STILL smiling after an hour run (believe me, this is a rare sight)
With training volume about to reach an all-time high in the next few weeks, I am grateful to be surrounded by positive friends and teammates.  Not everyone is lucky enough to be supported in love during all their breakthroughs and breakdowns (thank God this did not include a break-up!).  Sometimes when your own goggles are fogged up and teary, it is your teammates who act like the anti-fog and help you see the good.


Wolfie's wine pick. Friends. Red wine.
Both are helpful in allowing you to see the good in life.






Friday, July 5, 2013

Asking the Right Questions.

There was a dark period in my life when I felt completely numb, traumatized, angry and victimized.  I wasn't sleeping.  It was difficult to function in my daily life, and some people even gently suggested medication.  I was anti-meds, and found that the only breakthrough I had was through EMDR (Eye movement Desensitization and Reprocessing).  This technique miraculously allowed me to move on in my life by reprogramming 'triggers-' things that once caused a spiral of anxiety and stress were now considered harmless memories once they were reframed.

In essence, I learned to stop asking the pitiful and selfish question, "Why me?" and instead probe, "What can I take from this experience?  What has this experience taught me that can help me make better decisions in the future?"

Coach knew the hills in Tahoe made me feel like a victim- angry, weak, subordinate and questioning everything.  And so, before we rode the hills on the 3 Bears ride on Thursday, I was asked to reframe my view of the hills.  Instead of hating them, I was told to ask them, "What are you teaching me?  What lessons can I gain from you?"

With this new open attitude of nonresistance and surrender, I was able to relax and receive.  I allowed the hill to guide me like a gentle elder, giving me wise words that will stay safe in my journal.  Instead of being tense and angry at the bottom of the hill, I actually enjoyed climbing for the first time- I was hungry to hear what the hill had to teach me.  I even had some fun on the climb, spinning away and feeling much more empowered and stronger than before.


A view after one of the climbs.
Just like the sun's rays, the answers to good questions always penetrate through the clouds.
Even in meditation, so often people think about what they want. They spend their minutes focused on the question, "What do I need in my life?"

My dear friend (PK, you are secretly my guru!) challenged me to ask a different question- "How can I serve?"

Oh man, that changed everything!  All of a sudden, it was not about me.  It was about the bigger world around me, other people and communities, and how my life could somehow fit into that larger scheme and make a bigger difference.

In life, sport and spirituality, it is amazing how perspectives and judgements and attitudes can dictate our experiences.  All of these perspectives and judgements and attitudes are contingent on the questions that we ask ourselves.

So make sure that you are asking yourself the right questions.



Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Building My House.

When we were kids, my mom gave my sister and me a huge tri-fold piece of white paper.  We used a ruler to draw lines for the different levels of a house, for the rooms, and for the roof.  Then, we drew our "perfect" house.  I remember I made one of the rooms in my house a pet room, since I was obsessed with cats and fish at the time.  Another room had a grand piano in it.  And the bedrooms all had bunk beds.  My sister and I cut out small cardboard people to play in the unique houses that we each created.  I bet those paper designs are still saved in a box at my parent's house...

This past training weekend in Tahoe was eye-opening.  The course, coupled with the altitude and the distance will make for a very long and hard day come September 22nd.  But the fact that I felt much more smashed than my training partners made me panic.  Sometimes in sport, it is easy to compare yourself to other athletes and judge your fitness (or lack thereof) based on everyone else's.

I voiced my concern to Coach, and he reminded me that as athletes, we each have our own ebb and flow- we all peak and dip at different times during the weeks leading up to the event.  But the goal is to all be at our prime for the event.

And his email today reminded me of that very fact in a poignant way- 
"Relax Shadow, let all the building blocks fall into place race week.  You cannot put a roof on the house until you have the foundation and the walls."

And just as I worked on creating my ideal house that was different than my sister's, so I shall continue to build this 'house,' albeit not on white tri-fold paper, but in the sport of triathlon.


This is my PowerBreathe cram session on Friday.
I am now committed to REALLY using it for the next 10 weeks to
strengthen and build my lung capacity!
My fake PMA pose after a really mentally and physically tough climb x 2.
Building stronger climbing legs and attitude are in the future!
The gorgeous view from the Ironman run course.
I admit, if you're going to suffer, at least you have an awesome backdrop!
For me, successfully building my house includes-
Taking the time to build a solid foundation.
Not comparing.
Enjoying the process.
Trusting the architect.
And looking forward to the finished product.

Thursday, June 27, 2013

P.M.A.

I first heard of this term a few years ago, but never really used it.  Then during one practice while I was talking to Wolfie, it resurrected itself.  

"We just need to have a P.M.A." 
"What's that?" she asked.
"Positive mental attitude."



And just like that, it became a permanent part of our vocabulary.  I've learned on this journey that there are two ways of approaching hard workouts- 1) Embrace the suck (the preferred masochistic approach of Macca and Hulk) or 2) Have a PMA (the preferred approach for Wolfie and me).

One of my favorite amateur triathletes Sonja Wieck said it best- "It's true that your ability to remain positive in all situations will give you a leg up on your competition, and even if it doesn't...at least you will have a positive outlook on things.  If you are fast and happy, you're good.  If you are slow and happy, still good.  But if you are fast or slow and unhappy...no bueno.  If you are slow and unhappy, I'm pretty darn sure that shifting to slow and happy will give you the best chance at becoming fast and happy."


An example of NOT having a PMA.  A mud-covered face and booty during a rainy bike sesh.
And this here folks, is Wolfie, the fresh-faced PMA model.

So the recipe for success, alongside a good coaching program?  PMA.

On Tuesday morning in the pool, I was chatting with Wolfie.  That night my group was supposed to do power climbs up Mt. Diablo.  And I was not really that excited.  Did I mention that I was not that excited?

"Ohhhhh Shadow, you gotta have a PMA.  It'll be FUN!  You might see Bambi!  It's soooo pretty up there."  It was semi-sarcastic, but it made me laugh, and it did change my perspective.  Wolfie knows all the right things to say to me.



That night, I resolved to have a PMA.  It helped a lot.  And my new climbing gears on my road bike helped too, as well as the fact that I had really awesome company.


Doing power climbs up Mt. Diablo with this as the backdrop?  No complaints.
No Bambi sightings, but I was trailing behind these guys. #thenextbestthing
And yesterday was my first double-run day.  I like double mint gum.  And double chocolate chip cookies.  But double runs?  Not so much.  I was especially not exactly looking forward to the run after work, but I loaded up my ipod shuffle with Rich Roll's new podcast featuring Hillary Biscay, laced up my shoes, and didn't forget the most important thing- my PMA.  In all honesty, it was the most energizing/relaxing/beautiful run I've had in a long time.  It actually felt better than the run I had in the morning.


Double runday funday.
Having a PMA helps not only in sport, but also in your professional life.  If shifts occur on the work horizon, having a PMA is critical in allowing you to embrace changes as growth opportunities and creative new endeavors, rather than scary roads.  I think it's true- you can change your life by simply changing your attitude.

In everything that we do, we have a choice about how we approach it.

So either embrace the suck.

Or have a PMA.





Sunday, June 23, 2013

Race Day Magic.

Three days after my Lake Del Valle open water swim, I was flat on my back feeling like all the energy had been sucked out of me.  My nose was running, I was coughing, and I had the worst headache.  I slept for almost 2 days straight and was convinced that I had some strange microbial infection from the lake that would eventually kill me.  A 'real' doctor told me I had sinusitis.  And to stop freaking out.


Mom saves the day with homemade chicken soup, garlic bread, an orchid, and Mucinex-D.
Another friend brought over organic lemons (he knows I'm a snob).
With tea.  And chocolate.  And cookies.
I think all this worked more than the Mucinex-D, in my humble opinion.
The thought of having to navigate again in the open water swim just one week after I had recovered from this bout of feeling-like-crapitis made me nervous.  Granted it wasn't Shady Cliffs, but still...

Some races, things just all come together- I can't really explain it- so I just call it "race day magic."  The day before, I had an awesome pre-race lunch (eating fresh fish somehow always channels my inner fast fishy).  I got my good luck pre-race hug.  And pep talk.  Which really wasn't a pep talk, but it felt like tradition.  And it made me happy.

Having most of my GL Coaching teammates also participating made it so much fun.  On the drive over, I opened a super sweet card from Wolfie that made my day and inspired me to swim fast.  According to the Gary Chapman's book The Five Love Languages, Words of Affirmation is my primary 'language.'  So encouraging emails and cards and pep talks are all positive forces that act as huge motivators.  It was perfect timing.  And Hulk (aka the mailman) didn't get in trouble because he remembered to deliver it on time!


Wolfie's words of affirmation. 
Coach said the 2.4 mile swim was just "time practicing in the open water."  I'm not sure if he tells us that to keep us calm and relaxed, but secretly, I think this is what he really means- 


Er, sexiest wetsuit...
Aside from the fact that the anti-fog Spitz was burning my eyeballs within the first loop (Iesson learned for IMLT- rinse them out!) and the fact that my half-a$$ Body Glide application had left my wetsuit chafing my neck with every stroke, I felt good.  It seemed like I was swimming all alone- I couldn't see anyone else around me.  After the first buoy turn, I looked up and saw another human being!  And it was Hulk!  I let out a shriek of joy, partly because I wasn't lost alone in the middle of Chesbro Reservoir, and because Hulk=fast feet. I hopped on his feet for a few seconds and then noticed they were doing a hard kick of BACKSTROKE.  I lifted my head up and we both started laughing.  Then, we got to work and did what we do best- we swam together and it was good enough for a 5th/6th place overall.



Hulk always tows me on the bike, so I was happy to tow him around for a bit in the water.
I was really surprised with my results- I was the 1st woman in my AG, and even more cool- 1st overall woman in the 2.4 mile wetsuit division!  


Game face.



#willraceforwine
I can only say that it is because of unique coaching I've been receiving, and for all those early mornings with Hulk and Wolfie beside me in the pool, encouraging and pushing me to swim 'my fast.'  We all need each other, and our individual wins are really a reflection of the group's wins.

Turns out, GL Coaching's group is full of fast fishes who also placed really well!


Most of the crew with our winning schwag...
I have memories of the last time I did the 2.4 mile Catfish Crawl.  This year's theme all around seems to be re-writing the past and moving forward with an improved technique and mentality- which is translating into better race results.  I love the coaching I'm receiving.  I love my inspiring teammates.  And I've always loved the open water.

But I'm still taking Mucinex, just in case.






Wednesday, June 19, 2013

The Sweet Spot.

My favorite part of the trail.  With my favorite trail buddy.
During one windy bike ride, I remember Hulk telling me to tuck behind the wheel in front of me and "find that sweet spot."  You know, that perfect spot where you are shielded from the wind and can pedal easily and effortlessly in the draft.  You continue to move at a fast pace, but with absolute flow and ease.

Lately, I feel like I've hit a sweet spot in life.  I think back at the numerous paths that my life could have taken, and how drastically different things would be now if I had followed down those roads.  Back when I was 24, I thought I would be married and have kids by the time I was 32.  I've learned that happiness and success are not contingent on the trajectories (heavily constructed by society and culture) that I held for myself way back when.  Things change.  But more importantly, I've changed.

What if I had stayed in Southern California?  What if I had gotten married?  The endings to those scenarios that I  sometimes envision fall short of what I would consider being truly happy and fulfilled.

The path I'm on now feels more authentic- it feels good under my feet and I'm always curious to see what is beyond the next curve.  The feelings of joy and gratitude fill my heart- not fear- and for me, this is monumental.

I'm reading more books.
I'm watercoloring.
I'm meditating.
I'm surrounding myself with quality individuals who motivate and challenge me to aim for higher levels- physically, mentally and spiritually.  
And of course, I'm loving every minute of swimbikerun.

Life isn't always easy.  I know that.
So it makes it that much better when you hit a sweet spot.