Did you see that? Were you paying attention? Did you pick up on the clues? Did you see what I was doing? I didn't recognize it till it hit me square between the eyes this morning, and I'd been in the midst of it all along. It sucked me in and messed with my eating and my attitude until I wasn't sure which way was up anymore.
I fell back into people-pleasing habits. I started out thinking of the upcoming triathlon as a fun challenge and I was really excited about it. Then I started thinking about what it would mean to finish last: not that it would bother me on my own to finish last – I really will be happy with the accomplishment of finishing a triathlon. I started to worry about upsetting the good people who have volunteered their time so that a bunch of us can swim and bike and run (or jalk). I started to worry that they'd be mad at me if I took too long. And that's when training became stressful rather than joyful, and food became my comfort rather than my nourishment.
When my conscious self grasped that realization just a few minutes ago, I felt immediate relief, an immediate lift in outlook concerning not only the triathlon, but training, too.
It started coming on gradually. The other day I biked a different route home from the Y and I found that the pavement was far smoother, there were some fun curves, and overall I was much happier with it. Then I tried another route and then another. And somehow it struck me that although I always see the serious, bent-over-their-bikes-like-Lance-Armstrong bikers riding a certain route, I don't have to bike that route. I'm not them. That route makes me crazy with its chuckholes and asphalt patches. No one's telling me which route to bike: I've got the freedom to choose. For me, freedom is what biking is all about: the wind in my face, cruising through curves, the fun of getting somewhere quickly, on wheels, and without hurting the environment. I like biking – I shouldn't change it into something I hate.
So I took that attitude with me (although subconsciously, so I didn't recognize it yet) onto the treadmill this morning. As I increased the speed to a jog, Pat Morita, in the form of Mr. Miyagi (The Karate Kid), began whispering to me, "Do or do not, there is no try." Close on this was Robin Williams as Cozy Carlisle (Dead Again): "Someone is either a smoker or a non-smoker. There's no in-between. The trick is to find out which one you are, and be that."
And I thought to myself, "I am either a runner or a walker. There is no in-between." And I realized that I am a walker. There's nothing wrong with being a walker – walking doesn't mean strolling along la-dee-da all the time. Walking with strength and speed requires focus and practice. Walking means I can sustain my heart rate at over 150 for a nice amount of time, which is a good thing for me. Walking means I'm not pounding my joints.
So, what's my homework, kiddies? Having recognized that I'm a walker and that I'm worried about upsetting the race day volunteers, I need to contact the race organizers and see whether it's okay for me to walk the 5K. If they say, "No, you really have to run it," then I'll have to rethink my entry, consider the entry fee a donation; pick up my packet & t-shirt and be proud of all the physical and mental work I did in preparation. If they say, "Sure, there are people who walk it," then I'm golden and I can train to walk my good clip for longer stretches of time.
For training this means I'm going to explore other routes for the foot portion of the triathlon. Going around a track 13 times isn't too bad, but it's not a good representation of what I'll have to do on triathlon day. I suspect I'm going to take myself back to my favorite places: the Metroparks walking paths. Exercise is hard work, but I believe it's also meant to be a joyful celebration of all that we are and all we can aspire to be. There is no try, there is only do.
