No Struggle, No Reward

With less than a month to the Half Ironman in Austin, there is an epidemic running through those that will be competing - doubtitis.

For the majority of us, it will be the first time we have attempted that distance. Even though we have been putting in the work and hours needed to condition our bodies to doing these long distances, we won't actually put all three parts of the race together until race day.

Our condition is common, pretty much everyone goes through it, no matter what their sport. "Did I train enough? Am I strong enough? What the hell was I thinking paying to do this to myself?" That kind of thing. There are those who will openly admit that they are feeling this way, and then there are those of us that don't say anything and just hold it in.

Day to day I vary.  Days like Saturday, where a 60 mile ride with a good headwind during parts of it showed me that I could maintain a good pace even when I was nutritionally deficient (when I stopped at red lights for the last ten miles, my legs literally shook - serves me right for only bringing one GU). I knew had I done the right nutrition, I could have easily started the run.

Sunday was an open water swim - you could see the tension in people's faces as they talked about the upcoming SPI Tri, and further out, those doing the Half. It seemed like the kind of day to really play on your fears - a bunch of people were stung by jellyfish that were not normally out there, two people were observed by a curious dolphin (which I wish had happened to me that would have been SO cool!) and Cheryl was swarmed by a group of fish.

Since swimming is like breathing to me, and I was spared the jellyfish thankfully, the swim was more therapeutic to me than anything. I could tell, however, that not everyone shared my view. Swimming generally tends to be the sport most triathletes survive to be able to get to the rest of the race.

I think as these next few weeks play out and the race approaches we need to remember that it is these fears and doubts that allow us to have that sweet feeling of accomplishment when we finish.  There is no victory without the struggle, no reward without the challenge.

For me, I have been blessed this last week or so.  I've had the chance to run with an uber runner - Cyndi, who eats the Boston Marathon for breakfast.  You can't help but be encouraged when she tells you you are doing well. I've had encouragement from everyone, the demons in my head have decided to tone down the noise, and my foot is getting better. My own doubtitis flairs up once in a while, but I welcome it, knowing that each time I feel it and beat it, that medal around my neck will mean so much more.  

The Boogeyman and the Poodles

As children, we are afraid of the boogeyman.  He generally lives either under the bed, or in the closet. When I was a child, I used to think about poodles at the circus to try to distract me from being scared of what could be lurking in the dark. All that managed to do was make me afraid every time I thought about poodles at the circus.

As we get older, and less afraid of the dark, the boogeyman takes up residence in our heads.  He feeds off every person who put us down, every memory of feeling unworthy or incapable, and toys with us as we face new challenges.

During this last year, I have made a concentrated effort to take a bat to my boogeyman and pound the living snot out of him.  Because of this, I can honestly say that I am currently living the best, most peaceful times of my life. I'm happier than I have ever been, and every day I gain more confidence in myself and my goals.  Physically, mentally, spiritually and emotionally, I am the strongest I have ever been.  Even the occasional freak out day is nothing compared to the stress and drama I have endured in the past. 

Having had removed the negative influences in my life, I worked on healing the wounds left behind.  Unfortunately, longstanding wounds tend to become infected, and there is more under the surface than it appears. Sunday was exactly six weeks to the Half Ironman.  Sunday night I had the nightmare.

It was so real, and the pain that surfaced because of it was powerful.  I know that people say a dream is just a dream, and that may be true, but this one caused a trigger. The boogeyman had not eaten in a while, and he just was given a free pass to a banquet.

A flood of voices came into my head, telling me I was done, I would crash out before the race, or I would quit the day of. A year ago, this would have knocked me to my knees.  Today, it is like a thorn in my side.  It's annoying and nagging, but I can keep moving. I also welcome it. Let it surface so that I can heal it once and for all. Like a thorn, draw it out, let out the pus, and let it heal clean. It's not easy, but the alternative is going back - and that is something I just can't allow.

Last night I ran into Lori - not me, but the more badass version of me, Lori Tijerina.  The conversation we had helped me to see that while the boogeyman may yell and scream in my head, I'm far stronger than he is. It is an incredibly liberating feeling knowing that what held you back before doesn't have a hold on you anymore.  It may still be there, but it doesn't scare me.

There are many scars I carry from my past, but now I carry them as a reminder that if I made it through what I have, then what I'm facing is not such a big deal. I have the best weapons in my arsenal - my faith, and an incredible group of people who look at this ordinary looking woman and see something special.

I don't think I'm anything out of the ordinary, and I'm doing what a lot of people have done before me. There are much more extraordinary people out there doing much more extraordinary things.  But for me, I'm doing the one thing I never thought I would be able to do - believe I can, and hold that belief out against those who would say I couldn't.

Do I hope that my story and journey will help someone else take that step to healing? Absolutely! I don't feel you take a journey just to get yourself there, you have to pay it forward.

I wish I could feel bad that the boogeyman is going to find the food at the banquet unpalatable, but umm...no. He is officially on a starvation diet. Seeing how much I like this time of my life, and knowing that by allowing the rest of my hurts to heal it will only get better, I no longer have room for the boogeyman or the poodles in my head.  I'm way too busy seeing myself at the finish line getting my Ironman medal.

The countdown continues...

Definition of a Dork

Part of my Ironman experience has been taking a good look at who I was and who I am becoming.  From where I started this journey, I have come a loooooong way, those of you who met me in January for the first time can attest to that, right Esmeralda?

When I am in my element, say, the pool for instance, I have no problems. Can talk to anyone, feel confident, swim like a fish. Slowly but surely, the other sports have become like that too. Watch me in my classroom and I am completely at home. However....get me out of my element, and for a time I will turn into the definition of a dork.

It doesn't happen right away, which is probably why it can catch people off guard. It generally tends to happen a couple of weeks after meeting someone.  It happens with guys and girls alike, but when it's a cute guy, well then, I might as well be Raj from the Big Bang Theory.  I get nervous, I stumble over words, and I have a tendency to stick both feet in my mouth and swallow on a regular basis. I see myself in third person, figuratively smack myself on the forehead and say, "DORK!"

Fortunately, it tends not to last. A couple of weeks like that, and I'm back to myself again, and with the person it happened with, it doesn't happen again. Why does it happen? Well, that's a really long story that doesn't need to be told. Everyone has things in their past that cause them to behave certain ways - most of the time, we don't even realize we are doing it. I realize it, and I'm working on it.

I have been fortunate to have people who have been willing to be patient with me during my dork phase. These are the people I truly treasure - because they were willing to see past the awkward me and give me the space and support I needed to find my feet again so they could get to the real me.

I spent a large part of my life feeling the need to always be perfect.  I've come to realize that I'm not - that sometimes I am a dork, and that's okay. Do I hope that the journey to Ironman helps me get over it? Absolutely! But until then, I will continue to appreciate those who either don't mind or don't see my little phase. It's not who I really am, just a leftover from who I was. It's kind of like your appendix - there was a use for it once upon a time, but now it's just annoying when it gets inflamed.

54 days to the Half, but who's counting???