Monday we took a family trip to Dollywood. It was hot, we didn't stay really long, and it was fun, but there was a lot of stress involved. I got home, barely had time to change clothes, and ran back out the door to go to volleyball. We had to recruit some players since we had so many out of town. I posted a plea for players in the Back of the Pack Elite Facebook group - and immediately had two people willing to come and play. That's one way of getting to know people in the group. We played well together, had a lot of fun, and won our first two games. The third game stayed close, but we eventually lost it. It was a good evening though, and a much needed break.
Tuesday morning I did cutdown 400 meter runs. My first one was slow - 2:11. It was just a "let's see what a normal, slow 400 meters would look like and get an idea of where to go from here." Well, I only went faster from there. 2:02, 1:54, 1:52. That's great for me. The problem was, I was still telling myself I couldn't do it. Even though I could, and I was. After the 1:54, I got a little upset, and didn't think I could repeat it, so I was ready to stop. Before our run class, I had spoken to one of the other trainers, who is a life coach and does a lot with the mental aspect of training/sports. He immediately hit the nail on the head - that I was performance-based, worried about not living up to perceived expectations, and afraid to fail. I went over a few things we discussed with my coach and went back to the starting line. I ran the 1:52 and walked back to my coach. We discussed it and then the decision was made that I would be allowed to run the fifth one, but if I was any faster than 1:55, I was done. No sixth run. I agreed and went to run the 5th one. It felt awful. I felt like I was going super-slow and my form was totally off. But, I finished in 1:54. I walked back, told my coach, and he said, "OK- we're done for the day." It didn't dawn on me until a couple of hours later that I totally could have lied and said it was a 1:56 or even 1:55, and he wouldn't have known until much later when the data was uploaded, but that had not even been a fleeting thought at the time. I knew I could never lie to my coach and that wasn't an option. When I had the thought later, though, I had to laugh.
After the 400 m repeats, I taught some swim lessons. At the end of the last lesson, the mom began asking me a lot of questions about my service at Ground Zero. It was different for me. I hadn't been able to have a conversation like that in a long time, and it really didn't bother me or upset me. I left in a rush afterwards though, to go meet a coworker for lunch. We had planned the lunch date after I let her know about the doctor's phone call and upcoming visit with the cancer specialist. It was a good lunch, great conversation, and wonderful diversion.
Wednesday morning I went to the OCR workout. I've been looking forward to these and couldn't wait, but the early hour was not doing me any favors. I loved the workout - it was so tough. I knew I would feel that one later, but thankfully, we were taking another family trip - this time to Splash Country - so I knew I'd have a nice recovery day. It started off wonderfully, but it didn't take long for the heat and huge crowds at the park to take a toll. Between Don's irritability and my being on edge, it wasn't the best day. During one of the calm moments early in the day, I told him about the upcoming appointment and what my doctor had said when she called with lab work results. The day definitely went downhill from there. When we got home I immediately changed and rushed back out the door for run group. I wasn't planning to run, knowing that Tuesday's run workout and this morning's OCR workout were both a little more intense than normal and my body needed a lighter evening. I walked and talked with a teammate, getting out some of the pent-up thoughts and emotions, and listening as she did the same. Afterwards we did some strength work, and I definitely felt the morning OCR class coming back.
Wednesday evening when I got home, I had a phone call from the wife of one of my DRT members. Our teammate had passed and she told me she'd forward the arrangements to me shortly, so that I could pass them along. I immediately began notifying the rest of my team. I felt like I was back in "robot mode" - just doing my job without thinking about it or letting the emotions creep in. One of the teammates I called asked if I had heard about another responder we knew from another out-of-state team. I hadn't, so they filled me in. Yet another suicide. 9/11 had taken another life. I was frustrated and felt the emotions bubbling up, but continued doing my job. Right before making the last call, I had checked a group page on Facebook to see if they'd announced either death yet. I suddenly felt like I had been punched in the gut. There, on their page, was the face of a friend, with a 9/11 death notification attached. All of the emotions from the entire week spilled over. I just sat on my bed, sobbing. I never knew he was sick. Never had a chance to thank him for always being a rock during the recovery - offering hugs and smiles in the midst of tragedy, being a calming voice, constantly reassuring others - he was just one of those really incredible people who make this world a better place - and now he's gone. I couldn't take it. I made my last call and barely made it through the speech before hanging up and continuing to just sit and cry. I haven't grieved this much over a 9/11 loss in a while. I guess over time I just grew cold to the emotions of it and just accepted "yet another loss" and moved on. But this one... this one hurt. A lot.
Thursday morning, I was still hurting and still too emotional to interact with anyone. I went on my run. 3.5 miles later I was happy that I was able to use running as therapy again. I don't know that I could have worked through the emotions as well if I was still sidelined from running. The run felt good. I even finished with negative splits and a really good pace for me for a long(er) run. I'm still not up to the 5 or 7 miles I'll need for my race Saturday, but I think I'll be okay. I did a post-run workout of 30 dead bugs (15 each side), 15 pushups, 30 second plank, 20 bicep curls, 20 lateral raises, 20 triceps kickbacks, 20 squats, and 20 calf raises.
The swim meet was torture. I can't even talk about it yet. Too much noise. Too much chaos. We left about halfway through the meet and still weren't home until 10 PM.
Friday morning I headed to the gym for run class and teaching swim lessons. Run class ended up being 2 of us. I did the warmup lap and got ready for the 200s. I ran the first 200m in 58 seconds. Well, it was supposed to be easy. Easy was accomplished. I started the second one. It was supposed to be medium. I hit 52 seconds. Okay, fine. I went to do the third one. Something just clicked. I ran. Form felt good. I felt a couple of hesitation steps, but overall felt like it was good. My lungs were good. I finished. Checked watch. 44 seconds. What in the world?! Where did that come from? I turned and looked back towards my coach who looked as shocked and excited as I felt. He shouted "Have you arrived?!" He had clocked it at 42 seconds. We discussed my form - he had seen those hesitation steps too - but saw them as my right leg turning out a bit. We talked about it and then he said it was the best he had ever seen me run and he had absolutely no complaints about that run. I can't remember being that happy about a run for a while, but it also triggered a memory of Coach Pat at the City Meet back in the late 90s. I had been okay throughout the season on IM, but never great. At the City Meet, things just clicked and I finished with a second place. When I climbed out of the pool, his hands were in the same exact gesture as Sean had just done - and Pat said, "Where the heck did that come from? Where was that all season?!" It has always been a great memory, and when it came rushing back, I had to smile. I really have been blessed with some great coaches in my life. One of the biggest things I realized was that if I could bottle up exactly what I wanted in a coach, this morning's run class with Sean was that exact kind of coaching. Things aren't always perfect, but they are really, really great. The biggest realization of all was that if I had totally flubbed that last 200m and not hit that 42/44 second run, he would still have been right there smiling and coaching and helping me fix it for next time, and it would not have been a failure on my part or a disappointment to him. It's really hard for me sometimes to remember that we really are in this together every day, not just on the good days. Again, very thankful for his patience and consistency.
I headed to swim lessons, got through my work day, and then met with the other trainer/life coach for a walk and talk. Let me just say he asked some really hard questions. Things I did not want to answer. But he did so in a way that felt safe and where I knew he was just trying to help me get to the bottom of some things and deal with them so I could keep moving forward. There are a lot of things that keep piling up in my life and threatening to suffocate me. There is also a lot of fear. Having someone who gets that and who has been there and experienced similar things, and who can say, "Hey - try this" is a huge help. There was no judgement. No shame. No guilt. Just - I hear you, I get it, and I think this is something that might help. Hopefully this will help me get my mind back into the training and races a little better and get me back on track. It's been a rough couple of weeks of second-guessing, fear and hesitation. I'm ready for that to be behind me for sure.
So here we are at Saturday morning. I have two races this evening back to back. Yesterday my coach dropped the bombshell that he would not be there. I am actually okay with that, now that we've talked and I have a plan in place for the evening. I am going to run the 3K as a race - against myself and my own best times. I am then going to run the 8K as a fun run, without wearing my watch and without worrying about time. I just need to get the mileage in. This evening is counting as my long run for the week, and is really just a stepping stone to get me ready for next month. I have a 5K and 2 10Ks in August, and that training steps up this week. This race is basically my kickoff for August racing. All my coach wants is me to show up and run. The other trainer and my coach both want me to have fun and enjoy it. Although I have a goal for the 3K and it will be a little more performance-based, overall, tonight is to be more about me having a good run and far less about performance. Numbers are not important tonight, no matter how my brain is wired to think differently about that. The only thing I'm not looking forward to about tonight is the 2 hour drive each way to get there. Thankfully I have a teammate riding with me to help make the time pass quicker.
Have I arrived? Maybe. Or, maybe it was just a random day where things just clicked. Or, maybe I'm just getting a taste of what's yet to come. Regardless, I'm just happy to have some amazing people with me on the journey, no matter where we are along the way.
No comments:
Post a Comment